INSPIRATIONAL STORY: The Tea cup

There was a couple who used to go England to shop in a beautiful antique store. This trip was to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery, and especially tea cups. Spotting an exceptional cup, they asked, "May we see that? We've never seen a cup quite so beautiful."

As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the tea cup spoke, "You don't understand." It said, "I have not always been a tea cup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red clay. My master took me and rolled me, pounded and patted me over and over, and I yelled out, 'Don't do that.

I don't like it! Let me alone,' but he only smiled, and gently said, 'Not yet!!' "Then...WHAM! I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. 'Stop it! I'm getting so dizzy! I'm going to be sick!' I screamed. But the master only nodded and quietly said, 'Not yet.' He spun me and poked and prodded and bent me out of shape to suit himself and then...then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat.

I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door. 'Help! Get me out of here!' I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook His head from side to side, 'Not yet.' "When I thought I couldn't bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on the shelf, and I began to cool.

Oh, that felt so good! Ah, this is much better, I thought. "But, after I cooled, he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. 'Oh, please, stop it, stop it!!' I cried. He only shook his head and said, 'Not yet!' "Then suddenly he put me back in to the oven. Only it was not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I just knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. I was convinced I would never make it. I was ready to give up. Just then the door opened and he took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited...and waited...wondering, What's he going to do to me next? !"An hour later he handed me a mirror and said, 'Look at yourself.' And I did.

"I said, 'That's not me. That couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful!' "Quietly he spoke: "I want you to remember back to the beginning," he said, "I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted but, had I just left you alone, you'd have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel but, if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt, and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven but, if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over but, if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened. You would not have had any color in your life. If I hadn't put you back in That second oven, you wouldn't have survived for long because the hardness Would not have held. Now you are a finished product. Now you are what I had In mind when I first began with you.'"

The moral of this story is this: God knows what He is doing with each Of us. He is the Potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us, and expose us to just enough pressures - of just the right kinds - so that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill HIS good, pleasing and perfect will. So...when life seems hard, and you are being pounded and patted and pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be spinning out of control; when you feel like you are in a fiery furnace of trials; when life seems to "stink", try this.....brew a cup of your favorite tea in your prettiest tea cup, sit down, and think of this story. Then have a talk with the Potter.

LIFE JUST ISN'T

i came across this article when i was still in college while reading "Chicken Soup for a Teenage Soul". This is so inspiring.

Life isn't about keeping score. It's not about how many people call you and it's not about who you've dated, are dating or haven't dated at all. It isn't about who you've kissed, what sport you play, or which guy or girl likes you. It's not about your shoes or your hair or the color of your skin or where you live or got to school. In fact, it's not about grades, money, clothes, or colleges that accept you or not. Life isn't about if you have lots of friends, or if you are alone, and it's not about how accepted or unaccepted you are. Life just isn't about that.

But life is about who you love and who you hurt. It's about how you feel about yourself. It's about trust, happiness, and compassion. It's about sticking up for your friends and replacing inner hate with love. Life is about avoiding jealousy, overcoming ignorance and building confidence. It's about what you say and what you mean. It's about seeing people for who they are and not what they have. Most of all, it is about choosing to use your life to touch someone else's in a way that could never have been achieved otherwise. These choices are what life's about.

God is the Friend of Silence

We Need to Find God,
He Cannot Be Found in Noise and Restlessness.

God Is the Friend of Silence.

See How Nature . . .
Trees, Flowers, Grass
Grow in Silence.

See the Stars, the Moon and Sun . . .
How They Move in Silence.
The More We Receive in Silent Prayer,
The More We Can Give in Our Active Life.

We Need Silence to Be Able to Touch Souls.

The Essential Thing Is Not What We Say,
But What God Says . . .
To us and Through us.

All Our Words Will Be Useless
Unless They Come from Within.
Words Which Do Not Give the Light of Christ . . .
Increase the Darkness.

-Mother Teresa

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when we are busy, we hardly think of God, or doesn't think of Him at all.

it's true that in silence, we can interact with Him better, thru prayer.

that's where we can listen to Him and hear His words effectively.

God's always there. He's just drowned sometimes by the noise around us. but no matter how noisy the surrounding is, if we are calm inside, we can still talk to Him. He's just there, willing to listen.

A STORY MAINLY FOR PROFESSIONALS

A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year old son waiting for him at the door.
SON: 'Daddy, may I ask you a question?'
DAD: 'Yeah sure, what it is?' replied the man.
SON: 'Daddy, how much do you make an hour?'
DAD: 'That's none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?' the man said angrily.

SON: 'I just want to know.. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?'
DAD: 'If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour.'
SON: 'Oh,' the little boy replied, with his head down.

SON: 'Daddy, may I please borrow $10.00 ?'

The father was furious, 'If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I work hard everyday for such this childish behavior.'

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.
The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money?
After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think: Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that
$10.00 and he really didn't ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door.
'Are you asleep, son?' He asked.
'No daddy, I'm awake,' replied the boy.

'I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier' said the man.
'It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the $10.00 you asked for.'
The little boy sat straight up, smiling. 'Oh, thank you daddy!' He yelled.

Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills. The man saw that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father.

'Why do you want more money if you already have some?' the father grumbled.
'Because I didn't have enough, but now I do,' the little boy replied.
'Daddy, I have $20.00 now. Can I buy an hour of your time?

Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.'
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little son, and he begged for his forgiveness.
It's just a short reminder to all of you working so hard in life. We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts.

Do remember to share that $20.00 worth of your time with someone you love.
If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of days.
But the family & friends we leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives.

And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more into work than to our family.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

edward cullen is the answer?

Charming, polite, determined, and very stubborn, this is how Bella describes Edward in the Twilight series.

He's impossibly beautiful. She compares him to the mythical Greek god Adonis. His skin is "like marble"– very pale, ice cold, and sparkles in the sunlight. She describes his facial features as being perfect and angular - high cheekbones, strong jawline, a straight nose, and beautiful, full lips. His hair, which is always in casual disarray, retains the unusual bronze shade that he inherited in his human life from his biological mother. His eyes, once emerald green, are now described as a liquid, golden topaz. His fingers are described often as slender and he is said to have a dazzlingly crooked smile. His appearance changes if he goes long without feeding: his eyes darken, becoming almost black, and purple bruises appear beneath his eyes. Edward stands at 6'2", and has a slender but muscular body

He possesses superhuman beauty, strength, speed, endurance, and agility. His scent and voice are enormously seductive, so much so that he occasionally sends Bella into a pliant daze entirely by accident.

there you go..words that best describe edward cullen.

WET PANTS

Come with me to a third grade classroom..... There is a nine-year-old kid sitting at his desk and all of a sudden, there is a puddle between his feet and the front of his pants are wet. He thinks his heart is going to stop because he cannot possibly imagine how this has happened. It's never happened before, and he knows that when the boys find out he will never hear the end of it. When the girls find out, they'll never speak to him again as long as he lives.

The boy believes his heart is going to stop; he puts his head down and prays this prayer, "Dear God, this is an emergency! I need help now! Five minutes from now I'm dead meat."

He looks up from his prayer and here comes the teacher with a look in her eyes that says he has been discovered.

As the teacher is walking toward him, a classmate named Susie is carrying a goldfish bowl that is filled with water. Susie trips in front of the teacher and inexplicably dumps the bowl of water in the boy's lap.

The boy pretends to be angry, but all the while is saying to himself, "Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!"

Now all of a sudden, instead of being the object of ridicule, the boy is the object of sympathy. The teacher rushes him downstairs and gives him gym shorts to put on while his pants dry out. All the other children are on their hands and knees cleaning up around his desk. The sympathy is wonderful. But as life would have it, the ridicule that should have been his has been transferred to someone else - Susie.

She tries to help, but they tell her to get out. You've done enough, you klutz!"

Finally, at the end of the day, as they are waiting for the bus, the boy walks over to Susie and whispers, "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Susie whispers back, "I wet my pants once too."

May God help us see the opportunities that are always around us to do good..
Remember.....Just going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in your garage makes you a car.

Each and everyone one of us is going through tough times right now, but God is getting ready to bless you in a way that only He can. Keep the faith

The Star Fish

I awoke early, as I often did, just before sunrise to walk by the ocean's edge and greet the new day. As I moved through the misty dawn, I focused on a faint, far away motion. I saw a youth, bending and reaching and flailing arms, dancing on the beach, no doubt in celebration of the perfect day soon to begin.

As I approached, I sadly realized that the youth was not dancing to the bay, but rather bending to sift through the debris left by the night's tide, stopping now and then to pick up a starfish and then standing, to heave it back into the sea. I asked the youth the purpose of the effort. "The tide has washed the starfish onto the beach and they cannot return to the sea by themselves," the youth replied. "When the sun rises, they will die, unless I throw them back to the sea."

As the youth explained, I surveyed the vast expanse of beach, strectching in both directions beyond my sight. Starfish littered the shore in numbers beyond calculation. The hopelessness of the youth's plan became clear to me and I countered, "But there are more starfish on this beach than you can ever save before the sun is up. Surely you cannot expect to make a difference."

The youth paused briefly to consider my words, bent to pick up a starfish and threw it as far as possible. Turning to me he simply said, "I made a difference to that one."

I left the boy and went home, deep in thought of what the boy had said. I returned to the beach and spent the rest of the day helping the boy throw starfish in to the sea.