“You wanna see what the room looks like?” Geoffrey asked. “The room” was the hotel room where my son was staying. Geoffrey was his best man and is his best friend.
I was a bit out of the loop. I thought I was going to be looking at a brochure of the Houston Marriott or something. What Geoffrey brought instead was a camera.
Off and on during this wedding day I had wondered what the heck Joel was up to. Why was he running behind? Why wasn’t he at the church when I thought he was supposed to be? Why were people calling, looking for him? What was so important?
I had showed up at the church about 4:45 – 15 minutes late myself. He was nowhere to be found. Getting the car washed, Geoffrey said.
Car washed! Photographer was waiting, people were wondering, and he? He was washing.
Now, some five hours later, that clean car has just left the building with the newlyweds on board. And Geoffrey is scrolling through the pictures on his camera. These weren’t publicity pics. They were the results of a groom’s labor to prepare a place – a special place – for his bride. I’ll spare you the details, but there were candles, rose petals, a picnic basket, and much more, I’m sure.
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(A Turning Point Story)
This is an article I first wrote about my son 16 years ago, about what a powerful thing encouragement can be. It means as much to me today, if not more, as it did in 1993. Click “share this” and forward it to the encouragers in your life. Thank them for being your “Face in the Window.” And let somebody know you’ll be theirs….
It was one of those forgettable days, when nothing seemed to go right. I was physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted. The summer heat was unbearable, the humid West Alabama air unbreatheable. But I had to bear it, and I had to breathe it on this day.
Name a pitiful emotion – I’m sure I felt it on that day. Rejection, anger, discouragement, depression, loneliness, fear, shame – they all showed up with the intention of staying.
“Nobody needs you,” they said. “And nobody believes in you.”
It was a day of giving. Normally that rejuvenates me, but not today. On this Saturday, I had given time, love, and tenderness, together with a whole lot of physical energy. I had given my best (I thought). Apparently, others had disagreed, and I had been humiliated in front of a large family gathering.
I was spent. I would say that I came home with my tail tucked between my legs, but honestly I don’t think I was standing that tall.
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“I’ll say good-bye to love,” Karen Carpenter once crooned. Ha! She never knew Hugh and Mary.
Dede Long shared the wonderful story below of her grandfather who proved that you’re never to old for love or romance. Enjoy!
In 1920, my paternal grandparents, Hugh and Peggy Stuntz, went to Santiago, Chile as Methodist missionaries. While they were there, they met a single woman named Mary Sweaney. Her husband had been killed by lightning when they had only been married eleven months. Mary was in South America running a Methodist girls’ school. The three of them became lifelong friends. My dad, his brother and sister were all born while they lived in South America.
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Fran Cotton is a PK – a preacher’s kid. She saw love demonstrated by her pastor/father in a myriad of ways.
In response to my request for love stories, Fran shared the following example of how loving your neighbor can make you zigzag your way across your yard – and into someone else’s heart.
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This is Maymie’s ultimate love story. She holds her husband, Shannon, dear, but Maymie says their story doesn’t compare to the story of her children.The first time she got pregnant, Maymie and Shannon weren’t married. But they excitedly started planning and moving in the direction of marriage and starting a family. They set the date and made the doctor’s appointments. At the first appointment, the obstetrician wanted to do an ultrasound to see how far along she was and make sure everything looked good.
They excitedly watched the monitor.
There was no heartbeat.
The next day they went back, mothers in tow, for another picture, just to be sure. They got the same dreaded answer.
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This is another response to my request for love stories. I’m still looking! Who has taught you about the real meaning of love? How have you experienced it? Email me at [email protected] and share what you have observed, learned, or experienced.
The following was originally written by Joel, my son, on February 28 last year. It’s a powerful story of friendship that transcended social and racial barriers, and started with a plane crash in a Vietnamese rice paddy. (You can read more of Joel’s good stuff at http://anyidleday.com).
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Here’s another amazing story of love – this one from my friend, Dr. David Rosenthal. In it he shares the profound story that led to his adoption as a baby, and his future adoption as an heir and follower of Jesus Christ. It’s the story of three women who loved him greatly. One gave him life; another gave him a home and a name; the third pointed him to the Author and Finisher of his faith. Read on…
Esther Kaufman was born June 12th, 1917 in Bucharest, Rumania. Magdalena Barta was born not far way in Budapest, Hungary on June 23rd, 1924. These two women shared a strange and unique destiny and were part of a long love story that continues until today even though both are deceased.
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Recession. It’s the word on everybody’s mind these days. Congress, in an election year, is scrambling to give people some of their money back in order to avoid it (which begs the obvious question…). All the media, the experts, and the average Joes are all talking about some aspect of it. Somebody did a poll a couple of days ago, and it seems the average American believes if we’d just get out of Iraq, the recession would get better. Uh, OK, I guess.
What most of us are interested in is, can I keep what’s happening in a national and global economy from happening to me? Yes! But first it’s important to understand that economists are measuring only one thing.
What to recession-proof your life? Get a bigger definition of the word, “economy.” Try this one as I first heard it from Jack Taylor: Economy is the exchange of all the commodities of life.
If you’re finding yourself a bit short on cash, or if you’re worried about it, why not try a different kind of currency? Here are seven ways you can be wealthy, with or without money:
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This guest column is from my friend Todd Thompson, who is a gifted writer and communicator. In response to my request for love stories, Todd send me this amazing account.
My Grandma Thompson was born on an Iowa farm in 1900. In the early 1920’s she was a teacher and high school principal. While a teacher she formed some strong friendships with three of her fellow teachers. Glynda, Mack, Bess, and my Grandma Bernice became great friends.
During that time my Grandfather began to pursue a relationship with my Grandmother. He knew a good thing when he saw it. But Grandma didn’t make it easy for him. He had to court her with a great deal of persistence before she finally said “yes”. In a letter she wrote to my cousin describing the events leading up to their marriage, Grandma said, “I once told your Grandfather that it would be a cold day before I married him. And it was. 30 below zero on Christmas Eve 1924.”
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It’s a song that was released in November 1984. I heard it first on an episode of Miami Vice.
Then I heard it again in the most surreal of settings. I had placed my wife and twin babies on a plane in New Orleans at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning. I decided, before the long trip back to Alabama, to wander through the French Quarter. And there, at 7:30 on a Saturday morning on Bourbon Street, with only a garbage truck and a handful of bikers in view, I heard this desperate refrain come blowing out of an empty bar:
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