In love’s service only the wounded soldiers can serve. – Thornton Wilder
Dreams we can’t envision
Once there were three little trees, all with big dreams. The first tree dreamed of being carved into a beautiful and ornate treasure box that would hold the greatest treasure the world had ever seen. The second tree dreamed of being fashioned into a great ship that would sail the Seven Seas. The third tree didn’t want to leave its home on the mountaintop. “I want to grow so tall that when people stop to look at me,” he said, “they’ll raise their eyes to heaven and think of God.”
One day when the young saplings had grown into tall, strong trees, three woodcutters climbed the mountain. As they cut down the first tree, it could barely contain its excitement – it just knew it would soon fulfill its destiny. But instead of an elaborate treasure chest, workers made the tree into a plain, ordinary feedbox for farm animals. The tree felt bitterly disappointed.The second tree got made into a ship, all right – but not the kind to crest the waves of mighty oceans. It became just a simple fishing vessel, floating in a lake – not the stuff dreams are made of.
The third tree, to its horror and dismay, got chopped down, cut into wooden beams, and then left to gather dust in a lumberyard. “All I ever wanted was to stay on the mountaintop and point to God,” it moaned.
Time passed and the trees forgot their dreams, until one night when a young woman placed her baby in the animal feedbox – and the first tree knew that indeed it carried the greatest treasure on earth.
Another night, a tired man and his friends crowded into the little fishing boat. They got halfway across the lake when a terrible storm blew in, threatening to tear the boat to pieces. The tired man stood up and said, “Peace, be still.” The second tree knew then that it was carrying the king of heaven and earth.
One Friday morning the third tree felt itself yanked from the woodpile and dragged through city streets, where crowds shouted insults. The tree felt cruel and ugly when it realized it had become an instrument of torture. Soldiers nailed a man’s hands and feet to its beams, as the tree cried in shame. But on Sunday morning, when the sun rose and the earth trembled with joy, the tree stood tall, finally knowing that from now on, it would be the tree on the mountaintop, forever pointing people to God.
-traditional folk tale
as told in, God Loves Broken People, Sheila Walsh
The power of suffering to create beauty in your life lies almost entirely with you, in how you chose to react to the difficulties and even catastrophes that invade your life.
– Sheila Walsh
God’s kind, gentle love is not the sentimental, sappy variety…Instead, this love is strong. This love is a fierce love, a positive force that conquers sin, evil, and death. It is the burning passion to overcome evil with good. It is steadfast commitment to the ultimate, highest good of another – even if that other is one’s enemy. It is a love that does not put self or stuff at the center of life, but gives itself away with joyful abandon. It is a love so secure in another that it loses its life for others, only to find its life again.
– Richard J. Vincent
life: acoustic & amplified 