“Mommy, how did we get here?”
“Well, honey, a long, long time ago – way back even before Grampa and Grammy were born – there weren’t any stars yet, or the sun or the moon, or even the Earth. The only thing that was there was God, all by Himself, way up there in heaven.”
“Mommy, how did we get here?”
“Well, honey, a long, long time ago – way back even before Grampa and Grammy were born – there was this little bitty, tiny speck, floating out there in space all by itself. It was so small that you couldn’t even see it! There weren’t any stars yet, or the sun or the moon, or even the Earth. The only thing that was there was this little bitty, tiny speck, all by itself, way out there in outer space somewhere.”
It was Tuesday, May 17, 1994. The east Texas sun warmed the afternoon air as we buried my 91-year-old grandmother beside her husband in Laws Chapel Cemetery on the outskirts of Atlanta, Texas. Grandpa Horace had preceded her in death by more than 25 years. He had been a faithful gospel preacher during his time. Mama Grace was a diligent student of God’s word, and had taught numerous Bible classes throughout her lifetime. These were my Dad’s parents.
This week I expanded my blog universe with the discovery of a couple of fellow bloggers whose writing style I absolutely love. One of them is Kyla Roma (pictured at right). In her own words, Kyla is “a twenty four year old girl living in the Canadian Prairies under the biggest sky I’ve ever seen. I’m a black tea aficionado, crafty lady, vegetarian, thrift shopping addict, puppy mama and wife. I’m a homebody, a voracious reader and am deeply silly.”
I came across Kyla’s blog 
on January 5, and was impressed with the one resolution she made for the year 2010.
I remember as a child hearing someone tell a joke (and probably repeating it myself) that went something like this:
Nick Vujicic (pronounced Voy-a-chich) probably heard lots of jokes like that growing up. Nick was born in December of 1982 in Melbourne, Australia. He was a healthy, happy, beautiful baby. There was just one problem. Nick was born with no arms and no legs. He was the kid we all joked about in third grade. Except, when it’s real, it’s not very funny at all.
I have never been a huge fan of Reggae music. To be honest, though, I’ve never really given it much of a chance.
I was eating lunch with my good friend Zach yesterday, and the conversation turned to music. Zach is a big fan of Reggae music, and Bob Marley is his favorite artist in the genre. So I asked Zach what his favorite song is, and he quickly replied, “Three Little Birds”. I told Zach I was going to go home and find that song on the Internet and listen to it.
Have you ever wondered if God is really there; if He is really listening to you when you pour out your heart to Him in prayer?
Has it ever gotten to the point that it seemed like He wasn’t there, or like He just didn’t even care?
Have you ever found yourself asking that question – “Where are you, God?” – desperately wanting to hear His gentle voice whisper, “Don’t worry; I’m right here”?
If you have ever experienced the loneliness of not feeling God’s presence – of not being able to find Him, or feel Him, or sense His closeness – you are not alone.
What would you do if you were born without eyes, and with a tightening of the joints that prevented you from being able to straighten your arms and legs? Would you feel sorry for yourself? Would you consider yourself “disabled”? Life would certainly come with a greater level of difficulty.
I can’t even imagine being unable to see or walk. Yet, that’s exactly the situation in which Patrick Henry Hughes has found himself since the day he was born. However, when asked, “How would you describe your disabilities?”, Patrick just smiles really big and responds, “Not disabilities at all; more abilities.”
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