Footprints in Snow

Most people who live in wintry climes experienced climbing over a snow bank. Sometimes it is a small hill out of piled or wind-drifted snow, pristine and ready to explore with child-like delight.

Sometimes we face a muddy, gravel-pitted and icy hurdle to get where we want to go.

Yesterday's snowfall left a shoulder-high wall between me and my morning run to the bakery. I wasn't going to be deterred. I plowed ahead with snow spilling over the tops of my knee-high boots.

We learn to place our steps in the footprints of those who climbed over the snowbank before us. The chance that we'd sink deeper than those footprints is miniscule; we know its a safe path.

As I climbed back over the snowbank on the return trip, a thought danced through my mind and I wanted to share it with my readers.

We often see "footprints in the sand" signifying Christ walking with us, carrying us in times of trouble.

When things get REALLY tough and the world gives us the cold shoulder, Christ is still there, climbing over the snow banks with us.

Even when we are stubborn and insist that we can tackle the challenge on our own, Christ walks a step before us and encourages us to walk in His footsteps, for that way we know the path is safe for us to walk too.

~ESA

Mama Bird

I am really looking forward to today. There's a joyful thrill when I can help in something good that is far larger than just myself. This one holds a special treasure; it involves both helping kids, and helping them help another in need.

Yesterday evening, there was a knock on our apartment door. I opened it to find a gaggle of children holding a large shoebox. They needed help.

It turns out, a couple of days ago, they discovered two baby birds that had fallen from the nest. One, sadly, had died due to internal injuries. But its sibling survived the initial trauma, and they were all helping to nurse it back to health, helping it survive. They named the baby bird HOPE.

Hope was inside this large shoebox, still no more than a ball of fluff with a beak. The kids did the research, and knew the bird had to be fed every half hour, which they could not do with school. So they had gotten one of the neighbors who works as the community's housekeeper to feed it during school hours. But today, she was going on her son's class trip as a chaperone and could not take care of it. 

Could we?

As my boss is traveling this week, my office should be quiet enough with enough flexibility in my schedule today to regularly stop to tweezer-feed a baby bird. The kids had already carefully researched and prepared the food, handling gloves and all I need for it.

I agreed to "babysit" Hope.

In an hour (6:30 am) the eldest of the kids will be getting on the school bus. On her way to the bus stop, she'll drop off the bird at my apartment. After school, she'll walk to my office (in the neighborhood) and pick up her charge. I think I've just become a baby-bird day care facility. LoL

Something tells me that this mama bird will be remiss when Hope has to leave...

~ ESA
(Pictures below added through the day.)

River of Opportunity

I spent yesterday at an amusement park with extended family. One of the attractions has the rider sit in an inflatable tube and drift lazily down a meandering river-like waterway. Anyone who has ridden in one may know how tricky it can be to navigate one's tube lying on their back with a strong current and several other tubes between you and your objective. When my niece, riding a double with me, declared she had enough, I struggled to get to the exit, finally needing one of the lifeguards to pull us toward the exit area.

When several in our family group opted to go to another ride, I stood near the departure point to literally pull in the rest of the family as they floated by, so we could all go together. While I was pulling in the group in ones and twos, there was a woman who called out to me with her hand extended. She wanted to get off the ride too but could not reach the exit and was rapidly being swept "downstream" despite all her attempts, not unlike my own attempts about five minutes earlier.

When she thanked me for the help and asked if I was part of the staff, I answered simply, "No, I'm just out here looking to pull my mother in." It wasn't until I was back in the stream looking for my mother - the last of our group to exit - that it dawned on me...

If I wasn't already out there, I never would have seen this woman struggling or been there to help her.

How many opportunities to help a fellow human being - my brothers and sisters - have passed me by because I was not already helping out there, but merely sitting back waiting for the opportunity to come knocking on its own?

How much can pass
When the river of opportunity flows past
And I am not standing in the current?

-ESA

Heavenly Post (Real Story)

I got this by email and wanted to share it with my readers. A heart-moving story:

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This is one of the kindest things you may ever see...

It is not known who replied, but there is a beautiful soul working in the dead letter office of the US postal service.

Our 14 year old dog, Abbey, died last month. The day after she died, my 4-year old daughter, Meredith, was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey.

She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could, so she dictated these words:

Dear God,

Will You please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with You in heaven. I miss her very much.

I am happy that You let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. I hope You will play with her. She likes to play with balls and to swim.

I am sending a picture of her so when You see her You will know that she is my dog. I really miss her.

Love, Meredith


We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to "God / Heaven". We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven.

That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I though He had.

Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, "To Meredith" in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, "When a Pet Dies" .

Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey and Meredith and this note:

Dear Meredith,

Abbey arrived safely in heaven.

Having the picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away.

Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog.

Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in, so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by.

Thank you for your beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you.

I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much.

By the way, I'm easy to find, I am wherever there is Love.

Love,

God

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- ESA

Comforting Thought

This morning, instead of waking up early on a fantastically beautiful day and hauling our stuff out for the yard sale with the neighbors, my husband and I spent the morning in the local hospital's emergency room.

I remember how frightened I was this morning. I had a lot of pain, I had passed out around 5:30 AM, and I didn't know what was wrong. While I rode shotgun in my husband's van with a bucket on my lap in case the nausea was serious about what it threatened, I prayed.

My mind envisioned so many things ranging from just a lodged kidney-stone to an ectopic pregnancy about to rupture! Then amid the panic, pain and nausea, a clear thought cut through the chaos.

Either God will see me through this or He will see me home.

While some may consider this a tad morbid, I found it very comforting... I'm not alone no matter what happens. This actually calmed me down.

While I was still in pain, nauseous and dizzy, I was also able to joke a bit with the ER staff. With a smile or a chuckle, I was able to go through the battery of tests and get me home safe to recover. I'm glad they now have a replacement for the liquid barium to drink before the CT-Scan. That stuff was NASTY, and the nurse couldn't stop laughing every time I compared the stuff they had me drink to the "liquid sidewalk." :D

Never alone, no matter where we roam.
Safe in His arms.
Thanks!

- ESA

Little Something

I just got a letter from someone I know who is in prison. I've been writing to her, trying to keep her spirits up and even sent her a few of my stories. This is the first time she wrote me and I was surprised at how much my little notes and stories meant to her.

Sometimes the little things you do just to make someone smile can actually impact them strongly in ways you've never imagined.

Often we do a "little something" to help someone and walk away, continuing with our own busy lives. Rarely do we see the look on the face of the people we help, the tears of hope that shine in their eyes, or the light that gets rekindled deep within them. When we actually catch a glimpse of that, it's something wonderful.

Touch
And be touched
Deep inside

- ESA

Seeing Inside

When we converse with someone, what do we see? A face? An expression? Body language? An icon image? A user name?

As conversations happen more and more online, do we miss what we would have seen if we spoke face-to-face? Or do we miss something when we DO speak face-t0-face?

Regardless how we chat with one another, one thing we should strive to focus on is the inner side of that person. What is the person going through at the moment? How is that person feeling? We should try to understand what is prompting the words they use – what they share and what they hold back.

Eyes, it's said, are the windows to the soul. But it's not always possible to look someone in the eyes when you hold a conversation. Instead we should listen. Not with our ears, but with our hearts.

When we listen with our hearts, we start to see inside the person. We get a better understanding of that person and his/her perspective. We open our hearts and minds, and in doing so, allow something wonderful to take place.

A flower bud cannot bloom when it's held tight in a fist. We must open up and allow the other person to open up as well. We can share a gripe or a laugh. Good feelings arise in shared experiences. But most importantly, when we allow that person the room to blossom, they can express themselves freely and feel a sense of self worth.

When we do this, often the other person returns the favor and listens to us. By freeing others to express themselves, we often free ourselves. But do not expect it; let it surprise you when it happens. By listening with our hearts, we show others the way.

Everyone has a value that we can share with the world as long as the world is open to receive it. There are many, many gems hidden within people, sadly ones that never come to the surface and are lost forever.

Will you be the one to help bring that gem to the surface and let it shine?
Or will you close the door and walk away?

Listen.
See.

- ESA

Random Acts of Care

One of the stories my father told me, and I included in his eulogy years later, was one of caring for our fellow human beings. He was driving along this road late one night and saw someone parked on the shoulder with a flat tire, struggling to change it. As this was well before cell phones, and in a place where it may be hours before a police cruiser passed, my father stopped to help him. It was evident from the start, the man did not know what he was doing, so my father took the tire iron and changed the tire for him. When the man took out his wallet and tried to pay for the job, my father refused the money and, instead, told him this. "You know how you can repay me? Next time you see someone in need where you can do something, help them. If they offer you payment, tell them to pass on the act as payment in full."

While skimming through the headlines this morning, all sorts of horrors were reported, from the Taliban killing a young engaged couple to a 13-year old being accused of theft in Illinois. But then one link caught my eye and I read it through (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30092624/).

In this story, a team of Wyoming snow plows escorted a gentlemen through a blizzard with white-out conditions to the hospital 250 miles from his home so he could receive a long-awaited transplant. I think it wasn't so much the fact that this man finally received his transplant as the fact that several others (a 911-dispatcher, a police officer, and a WDOT boss) took it upon themselves to steer away from their job's official procedure and choose to do what they could to help a fellow human being. In today's economy, jobs are getting scarce. I can easily envision a WDOT accountant complaining that the State shouldn't have wasted the money on a convoy of plows for one man. Sadly, any of those people who helped may have jeopardized their job, and even their family's welfare, in doing so. But they did it anyway.

Too many times in our lives, we just follow the procedures. We move like sheep following one shepherd or another, but rarely the One in our hearts whose only request was to love one another. With that loving flows the incentive to help one another, reaching out to others who may not be part one group or another we proclaim ourselves to be members of, but out to another human being who shares this small blue planet with us.

I'm certain if I hunted for them, I could find other news stories like these. But I think most "good deeds" go unrecorded, best paid if we return to the favor to a fellow human being in need.

- ESA