Thursday, April 19, 2007

Perspective: Ninety Nine Balloons

Today Charlie was visiting the site, when he came across the video called "Ninety Nine Balloons." I must warn you, I did cry a bit, but it really put things in perspective. They did not complain about having to feed their little miracle, they looked at it as a blessing to have this day with him. Do we really enjoy God's blessing? Or are we too busy complaining when things are not perfect? So, for moms, this video would be a blessing but you need to watch it when you have some time to gather yourself, because you will cry. Also, this website is a great site to get relevant illustrations from. Enjoy, I wish we all could have this perspective.

Click here to view video:

Click here for church relevance website:

July 20, 2006-October 27, 2006

Our fighter of a son has gone to be with Jesus. We celebrate his life and revel in the fact that he is finally well. We are sad. We miss our son. But do not mourn for us. Celebrate with us. Eliot's life points us all to worship. Join us.

More posts and details will come.

II Timothy 4:7,8
"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing."

Revelation 21:3-5
"And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.' He who was seated on the throne said, 'I am making everything new!' "

My Son

My son was not strong
by any measure of man.
But his song I will sing whenever I can.

It sounds of truth
and rings out of grace,
Removing the veil and revealing God’s face.

My son was a picture
painted bold and bright.
His life throwing color on world’s canvas of night.

The subject unfolded,
a new stroke each day.
Until brought into focus was true joy’s way.

In the least likely place
and hard to explain.
Joy was found in the midst of the pain.

The awe of a life
and the wonder of birth.
My son was a gift of unspeakable worth.

His heart could not hold
his song came to rest.
And I am left with no son to hold on my chest.

My son was not strong
by any measure of man.
But his song I will sing whenever I can.

So ask of my boy,
consider it no bother.
When I tell of my son I tell of my Father.

Click here for their blog and complete story:

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