Healthy Soul Food

  
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♥- Dayzee- ♥

I got THE- power!! Jesus.
 
 
Barked: Thu Feb 18, '10 5:14pm PST 
February 18, 2010
“Do not worry then, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’. . .”
Matthew 6:31 (NAS)

On the plane headed to Iowa for a conference, I felt a little anxious. Newly diagnosed with celiac disease, I had to think carefully about my food—nothing containing wheat or gluten for me. This new way of eating complicated life. Will I have to endure questions and stares in restaurants? I thought. I have a few apples from home, but should I have brought more?

That first day at the conference I met Cynthia. “Hi,” she said. “I heard you have celiac disease. Me too. I brought some things to share.”

“That is so kind,” I said. I felt as I did on my first day of kindergarten when my new friend shared cookies from her lunchbox.

Cynthia offered wheat-free granola, flourless brownies and peanuts. “Take whatever you want. I have plenty.”

Later in the cafeteria, I smiled at Cynthia as we filled our plates. As the conference organizers had promised, there was gluten-free food for us.

On the last night we joined a group at a restaurant. Someone had chosen a place with a gluten-free menu! I had a great time, but I had to leave a little early. Later that night I heard a knock on my hotel room door. It was Cynthia. “I brought you something. You missed dessert.” Cre`me brulée, three different flavors.

As I hugged Cynthia good-bye, my heart and tummy were both full. God had provided, and He had sent a new friend who understood.

Lord, thank You for Cynthia, who’s been there.


By Julie Garmon
♥- Dayzee- ♥

I got THE- power!! Jesus.
 
 
Barked: Fri Feb 26, '10 4:30pm PST 
For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance. . . .
II Peter I: 5-6 (NIV)

The nurse sitting across from me pricked my finger and squeezed out a drop of blood. It really didn’t hurt. She showed me the meter. “Two-thirty-two,” she said. “That’s diabetic.”

Tears popped into my eyes, I-cannot-believe-this-is-happening-to me tears. I was angry—not at her, but at Sweetness.

Sweetness and I had been dating for a long, long time. He went with me everywhere, and I spent lots of money on him. I changed the way I dressed for him; he had a place in every room in my house. I think I loved Sweetness way more than he ever loved me.

When the doctor walked into the examining room, she could see that I was upset. “It’s going to be all right,” she told me. “I can give you some pills that will help you,” she said.

“No.” I shook my head. “I needed to hear this. I’ve known I should break up with Sweetness for a long time. No more sugar.”

So I cut Sweetness off. He tries to call me; he shows up everywhere I go; he tries to talk to me in my dreams; he even buys commercial time on television. He’s trying hard; I give him credit for that. Whenever Sweetness calls, I walk or pray or both.

Eight weeks later, when I returned to the scene of the diagnosis, my doctor was ecstatic: My blood sugar was now normal. “I knew you were going to do it!” she said. She forgot that she was a professional and drew a happy face on my chart.

Dear Lord, I thank You that Sweetness and I are now through. Give me the strength to keep it that way.


By Sharon Foster
♥- Dayzee- ♥

I got THE- power!! Jesus.
 
 
Barked: Sat Feb 27, '10 7:06am PST 
When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became a man, I gave up childish ways.
I Corinthians 13:11 (RSV)
I remember begging my father again and again to get us a clever one, like others on our street. Maybe letters that spelled out a word or repeat numbers like the ones on our next-door neighbor’s car, D15F15. Or just a plate with fewer than eleven digits.
Year after year, though, our license plate number would be not only long but hopelessly scrambled, just as our car was always black, the most common color then, and neither very new, nor very old. Our car, like its plate, was totally undistinguished.

I understood that the answer to my brother’s “Can we buy the latest model?” my sister’s “. . . choose a pretty color?” my “. . . get a snappy license plate?” was “No.” Why, I didn’t know. I knew, of course, that my father was a private detective. And I knew that the family car would sometimes be gone for several days, replaced by an equally nondescript company car. The intricacies of using and switching automobiles when staking out a location or trailing a suspect were not only unknown to me but unimaginable.

When I got a little older, of course, I understood why our father could not give us what we asked for, why our car must not attract attention. It gave me a new respect for his “No,” a sense that there were good reasons for things that for the present were beyond my comprehension. It helps me now to accept the No of the Father whose reasons are good beyond all imagining.

If my “license plate number” today is long and jumbled, Father, I trust You for the reason why.


By Elizabeth Sherrill

♥- Dayzee- ♥

I got THE- power!! Jesus.
 
 
Barked: Sun Feb 28, '10 11:14am PST 
This is the resting place, let the weary rest…This is the place of repose. Isaiah 28:12
Sometimes, after a busy day or even in the midst of challenging times, stop and say this verse to yourself and note how the words dissipate weariness and refresh the body, mind, and spirit. The best method for using these words is to say them slowly, emphasizing their soft quiet melody. This is the resting place. At the same time visualize peace, rest and renewal coming to you.
♥- Dayzee- ♥

I got THE- power!! Jesus.
 
 
Barked: Sun Feb 28, '10 11:33am PST 
Who You Are
============

I find myself on the downhill slide of yet another trial in my
life where confusion seemed to be the only thing I was sure of.

Who, what, why, when, how, and how long were the questions I
didn't have answers for.

Last night, I sat quietly and instead of asking,
I just listened.

God whispered to me.

Who I am is a child of His.

What I am is a wife and mother.

Why is something we can only figure out as we go along.
When is always and can never be more than right here and right
now (live for today).

How is only with His help, and how long depends mostly on us.

He explained to me that I am who and what I am
(don't try to be any more or any less) therefore I need to do
and be the best that I can at all times.

I get discouraged,
but I also have the ability to inspire and be inspired.

I become sad sometimes,
but I can also experience joy.

I can become angry,
but I have the heart to console.

I need to be forgiven sometimes (a lot)
but I can also forgive.

I feel helpless at times,
but can still lend a hand or ear to help others.

I am a teacher,
but I still have much to learn.

I get confused,
but deep down I know the answers are within my grasp.

It is the same grasp that boldly lifts my hands to Heaven,
and gently brings me to my knees.

Sometimes I feel lost,
but that is merely an illusion because it is not only enough for
my Father to know where I am and exactly what I am going
through,

He has every hair on my head numbered.

Life is a series of lessons to be learned.
That is the only way we can grow.

I wish I had all the answers, but sometimes I think (I know) the
only way for us to become stronger and grow into what He wants
us to be, is to walk through the fire.

So, whatever you're going through, hold your head up, guard your
heart, and put all your faith and trust in the only ONE who will
never fail you....... JESUS.......

Remember all the things you can be even when you are sometimes
those things you wish you weren't.

~A MountainWings Original by subscriber Lanette Fernandez, Wyoming~
♥- Dayzee- ♥

I got THE- power!! Jesus.
 
 
Barked: Mon Mar 1, '10 8:11am PST 
Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? . . .
Matthew 8:26

A Gift of Faith

We are on a bus driving through an off-road thicket, deep in a moonless landscape. There is no electricity for miles, and I can see nothing as I stare out the window into the darkness. The bus rumbles to a halt, and my husband David and I and our fellow passengers stumble toward a pontoon boat. Within minutes we’re anchored in the middle of a forbidding bay. “This is the strangest tourist attraction I’ve ever seen,” I whisper nervously to David.

Earlier, after we’d arrived on the Isle of Vieques for a special holiday, our taxi driver had said, “Put the Bioluminescent Bay at the top of your agenda.” So here we are, listening to the pilot of the boat say, “To experience the miracle of the bay, you must jump into the water.”

No one moves.

This is ridiculous. The water is as black as the night.We all wait.

Suddenly, David stands up and jumps into the unknown. In the pool of darkness, his body takes on a bright glow. His every movement radiates a flowing blue-green light. Mesmerized, I jump in, and others follow. I wave my arms and make angel wings, and then twirl and swirl in a trail of fairy dust. By now, everyone is laughing and splashing as our every move turns the night magical. The moment seems part fantasy, part science fiction as the energy of our bodies sets trillions of microorganisms aglow.

Later, back on the boat heading for shore, I think of the fear that wrapped around us. There in a dark bay, magic was waiting—waiting for someone who believed enough to take a chance and jump in.

Father, take away my toe-first inclinations and fill me with a leaping faith.


By Pam Kidd
♥- Dayzee- ♥

I got THE- power!! Jesus.
 
 
Barked: Tue Mar 2, '10 8:37am PST 
Seek ye out of the book of the Lord, and read. . . .
Isaiah 34:16

For several years now I’ve been going on a walk as part of my exercise routine. I head out after my younger son goes to bed, strolling through our small-town New England streets to a small church about a mile away. There I say a quick prayer in the parking lot and head back home. The round trip takes about half an hour, and I always feel better for it.

The trouble is I get bored on the walk. I’ve tried all sorts of ways to pass the time. At first I listened to music, but my tastes run toward classical and it’s frustrating to hear only a snippet of a symphony or an opera. So I switched to recorded novels. That’s worked better, and over the years I’ve enjoyed the works of J. R. R. Tolkien, Homer, Charles Dickens and dozens of other wonderful writers.

Recently, however, I’ve discovered something else to listen to that’s better than music or novels: the Bible. I prefer the King James Version read by Alexander Scourby in his powerful baritone voice, but I’ve listened to several other recorded versions and they all have their good points. When I’m walking along familiar streets, listening to the words of Holy Scripture, everything seems to be bathed in the light of God. Places I’ve passed a thousand times before take on new beauty and meaning, my worries sink to insignificance, and I always return home with a spring in my step. Walking with the Bible is a simple investment that pays eternal dividends.

May I always read the book of my life, Lord, with Holy Scripture as my guide.


By Philip Zaleski
♥- Dayzee- ♥

I got THE- power!! Jesus.
 
 
Barked: Wed Mar 3, '10 7:37am PST 
Abraham begat Isaac; and Isaac begat Jacob. . . .
Matthew I:2

In Hong Kong recently I visited a Chinese graveyard. The only other people there were an old woman and a little girl, who was carrying an orange. The two stopped before a crumbling, lichen-covered tombstone and bowed deeply. After perhaps two minutes, the little girl placed her orange on the grave and they left.

Back in the States, from a cobwebby corner of our attic I dug out a four-foot-long cardboard tube, which contained a gift from my greatuncle Will. As a boy I loved visiting Uncle Will in his one-room home. He collected old things: arrowheads, cattle skulls, petrified wood and family records. It was a copy of our genealogy, printed on blueprint paper, that he handed me one day. “This is where you come from, Johnny.”

Uncle Will laid the genealogy on the floor and began unrolling it. Ruled lines connected entries in his fine penmanship. I read out a few names, English-sounding and unfamiliar to me, thanked him, rolled the record up and took it with me, where it ended up in the attic corner.

Now I carried the record down to the living room and rolled it out across the floor, thinking of a little girl placing an orange on an ancestral tomb. I have only the names and dates and a few scanty details, such as that my ancestors were farmers and tradesfolk and teachers. They labored and suffered and loved and grieved and kept their faith. They passed on a heritage to me that I’d taken for granted, with no appreciation for the lives that made my own possible.

Why, I’d always wondered, did the Bible allot so much space to those boring “begats”? Maybe, I thought, because the record of God’s faithfulness to our ancestors is a portrait of the One Who is the same today, yesterday and forever.

Father, let me pass on the legacy of love, work and faith to generations to come.


By John Sherrill
♥- Dayzee- ♥

I got THE- power!! Jesus.
 
 
Barked: Fri Mar 5, '10 8:12am PST 
Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. . . .
James 4:14

As I walked into the store, an elderly employee who was greeting shoppers gave me a big hello. “Why, I know you! You’re that lady on television! I watch you all the time.”

“Thanks. It’s so nice to meet you,” I said as I shook his hand. As an anchor on a local TV station, I enjoyed the opportunity to meet viewers.

Later, while putting my purchases into the car, I thought back to my chance meeting. What a nice man, I thought. I had two TV station baseball caps in the backseat of my car. Maybe he’ll be working the next time I’m here, and I can give him a baseball cap.

I got into my car, started it, shifted into reverse and then stopped. The phrase “You can’t go back to Moscow” floated into my mind. That phrase had become a mantra around the studio. John, an experienced cameraman at our station, shares it with all of our interns.

Years ago John traveled to Moscow with a news crew. “I knew that if I didn’t have the footage I needed to produce the story when I got back to the studio in New Orleans,” he said, “there was no going back to Moscow to get it. Make sure you make the best out of every moment. Who’s to say you’ll ever have that opportunity again?”

I put my car in park, turned off the ignition, grabbed a baseball cap and headed back into the store.

Lord, I want to make the most of all the moments that You give me.


By Melody Bonnette
♥- Dayzee- ♥

I got THE- power!! Jesus.
 
 
Barked: Sun Mar 7, '10 8:15am PST 
March 07, 2010
Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord. . . .
Colossians 3:23 (NIV)

This year I’m serving as a deacon at my church. My first official act was to host the between-services breakfast of coffee, juice and doughnuts.

Normally I wouldn’t mind getting breakfast ready and serving it, but that Sunday a new class was starting. Now, instead of sitting expectantly in the front row, I’d be in the kitchen cutting up doughnuts and trying to figure out how to wrangle the coffeemaker.

When breakfast was over, a fellow deacon and I washed coffeepots, wiped kitchen counters, and cleared and cleaned tables in the fellowship hall. By the time I finally reached the sanctuary, our pastor was well into his sermon.

I was just a tad annoyed. I mean, I’d missed a class I’d been eagerly waiting to begin. I’d spent more time than usual close to coffee grounds and dirty tabletops. And now I’d missed most of worship.

That’s when I noticed it. Something was sticking to the side of my black boot. It was small and round and yellow, with a red heart in its center—a sticker. How did that get there? I bent down and pulled it off. Jesus loves you. The words were simple and clear, white lettering in a bright red heart.

I looked around at the gleaming wood of the communion table, at the loaf of freshly baked bread. I glanced at our pianist as she took her place for the next hymn. My eyes rested on the colorful banners on either side of the cross. It takes lots of folks to make church happen, I thought. In that moment I was genuinely grateful to every one of them. And grateful to be one of them too!

There are no small jobs in Your kingdom, Lord. Use me as You will.
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