Room for Everything

Ralph Marston

Where there is nothing, there is room for everything.
When all is lost, there is no limit to what can be gained.

When little is known, there is much that can be learned.
When nothing has been done, there is much that can be accomplished.

Emptiness is an opportunity to be filled.
Limitation is an opportunity to grow stronger and more capable.

Where there is overwhelming despair, there is also enormous space for love to abound.
Where there is darkness, there is also the potential to be filled with light.

When you are down as low as you can go, you have the opportunity to be the best that you can be.
When you're surrounded by emptiness, there is unlimited space available for real fulfillment.

When the world seems dark, cold, and empty, there is plenty for which to be thankful.
For you can fill it with warmth, with light, with meaning, and with life.

New Year Resolutions

©2004 Rev. David Ault

Did I express love this year, real love? The kind of love that doesn't announce itself in flashy circumstances or structured conditions—but an authentic, quiet, internal love? The kind of love that bubbles to the surface when I gaze at another with understanding, a love that places me in their shoes, granting freedom from judgment and deepening my compassion? A philanthropic love that expresses because it simply feels compelled to, because it knows there is more than enough and everyone can benefit. If not, then I resolve to be and do better in my authentic loving.

Did I forgive this year, really forgive? The kind of forgiveness that cracks open my heart, peeling away one more layer of righteous indignation, thus allowing my soul to breathe? The kind of forgiveness that loosens my clinched fists held high at a situation so that I don't enter into the next one with guarded mistrust? The kind of forgiveness that comprehends there is a difference between understanding a behavioral choice and condoning it? If not, then I resolve to be and do better in my forgiving.

Did I stop this year, really stop? The kind of stopping that can't help but make me vulnerable by becoming more familiar with who I am without distraction, smoke screens, excuses or self-imposed numbing? The kind of stopping that turns me, naked, towards my feelings, giving them permission to express? No right or wrong—a stopping that simply lets me hear what I need to hear so that I can live more effectively? If not, then I resolve to be and do better in allowing myself to stop.

Did I seek adventure this year, real adventure? The kind of adventure that requires me to not only take a leap of faith off my cliff of familiarity but actually sends me back to get a running start? The kind of adventure that shakes the dust off my capable but underused wings and gives them an opportunity to catch the gorgeous wind of change? The kind of adventure that knows there is no outside safety net in this physical world, only an internal one? The kind of adventure that shouts, "I choose to live fully!" If not, then I resolve to be and do better in seeking adventure.

Did I seek wellness this year, real wellness? The kind of wellness that requires me to be fully conscious of what I put in my body—the kind of wellness that requires me to practice what I preach when it comes to self-love while understanding that the power to dissolve poor habits starts by simply choosing to change? Wellness that says, "This is the only body you've got. Treat me with respect, praise me daily and honor me as the holy temple that I am?" If not, then I resolve to be and do better in allowing wellness in my life.

Did I play this year, really play? The kind of play that gives value to the heavenly activity of fun—knowing that fun is sacred, that play is the equivalent of work and that during play—renewal and relaxation usher in the newest ideas and the clearest choices for better manifestations? Did I view play as a necessary life function and not a debatable luxury? If not, then I resolve to be and do better in my relationship to playing.

Did I set a goal and see it to completion this year, really complete it? The kind of completion that lets the vibration of satisfaction and confidence in my abilities heal any opposing ideas of not being good enough? Did I honor my life and its sacred purpose by utilizing my time with forward thinking and letting my mistakes be motivators not antagonists? Did I dissolve my insecurities and procrastination by understanding that my untapped genius has but one mode of expression and that is through idea, thought, word and action? If not, then I resolve to be and do better in setting and completing my goals.

Did I open myself up to learn this year, really learn? The kind of learning that entices me to enroll in being a student of life with thirst and enthusiasm? Did I set an intention for uncovering more of my potential, letting divine intellect eat from my plate and stepping deeper into the waters of wisdom? Did I open a book, take a class, study a language, learn an instrument, write a poem, visit another culture? Did I learn to surprise and thrill myself with the infinite capacity I have to master more than I thought I could? If not, then I resolve to be and do better on my personal path of learning.

Did I clean up my relationships this year, really clean them up? The kind of cleaning that requires me to break open the lock, pull back the curtain, throw open the window and start removing the dust of harsh words, grudges, false accusations and misguided choices that have layered my heart? Did I make amends for the fearful ways that disheartened another, for neglecting to honor their point of view? With careful examination, did I communicate my truth, understanding that sometimes all we may be able to do is agree to disagree and to do so without judgement or malice? If not, then I resolve to be and do better on cleaning up my relationships.

Did I share my good this year, really share? The kind of sharing that comes from the pure joy of seeing another succeed, not from what I think they can or will do for me in return? Did I tithe back to where I was spiritually fed, transformed and inspired? Did I practice random acts of kindness and give of my time, talent, and treasure realizing that my good is a part of a never-ending wellspring that cannot run dry—whose source is and always will be the infinite wellspring of the Divine? Did I commit to walking the altruistic path, remembering that every step brings healing and enlightenment to the world? If not, then I resolve to be and do better in my sharing.

Did I pray this year, really pray? The kind of prayer that is spoken not to God but AS God—prayers that affirm rather than beseech, are pregnant with knowing rather than bloated with doubt? Did I make my every day activities a prayer—realizing that every thought I think carries with it the responsibility of an effect on the world? Did I remember how truly powerful my own prayer actually is and that by simply devoting myself to the practice of it, I become the change? Did I remember that my prayer takes what I seek and introduces it to me, the seeker? If not, then I resolve to be and do better with praying.

Did I do all these things because deep down inside I fully understand how precious I am and that these activities will help me to see that I am held in the light as a perfect idea? Did I remember that I have been perfectly conceived and am always held in the perfect mind of God as perfect being? Did I know that there is nothing that I can ever say, nothing I can ever do that will separate me from the love of God? If for any reason, I forgot my divinity this year, then I resolve to be and do better in my knowing of it, to fully understand and embody the truth that it is done unto me as I believe. And I believe in the power of Good, for me, for you, for all.

Open Door Policy

Unknown

If God had a refrigerator,
your picture would be on it.

If He had a wallet,
your photo would be in it.

He sends you flowers every spring.
He sends you a sunrise every morning.

Whenever you want to talk,
He listens.

He can live anywhere in the universe,
but He chose your heart.

Face it friend,
He is crazy about you!

God didn't promise days without pain,
laughter without sorrow, or sun without rain.

But He did promise strength for the day,
comfort for the tears, and light for the way.

Hands

Unknown

An old man, probably ninety+ years, sat feebly on the park bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. When I sat down beside him, he didn't acknowledge my presence, and the longer I sat I wondered if he was ok. Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was ok. He raised his head to looked at me, and he smiled.

“Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for asking,” he said in a clear, strong voice.

“I didn't mean to disturb you, sir, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands. I wanted to make sure you were ok,” I explained to him.

“Have you ever looked at your hands,” he asked. “I mean really looked at your hands?”

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. “No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands,” I thought as I tried to figure out the point he was making.

Then he smiled and related this story:

“Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled, and weak, have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.

• They braced and caught my fall when, as a toddler, I crashed upon the floor.
• They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back.
• As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer.
• They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.
• They dried the tears of my children and caressed the love of my life.
• They held my rifle and wiped my tears when I went off to war.
• They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.
• They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son.
• Decorated with my wedding band, they showed the world that I was in love with someone special.
• They wrote the letters home, trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse…and walked my daughter down the aisle.
• Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off of my best friends foot.
• They have held children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.
• They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body.
• They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw.
• And, to this day, when not much of anything else of me works real well, these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.
• These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life.

But, more importantly, it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And He won't care about where these hands have been or what they have done. What He will care about is to whom these hands belong and how much He loves these hands. And, with these hands, He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ.”

There is no doubt I will never look at my hands the same again. I never saw the old man again after I left the park that day, but I will never forget him and the words he spoke. When my hands are hurt or sore, or when I stroke the face of my children and wife, I think of the man in the park. I have a feeling he has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel his hands upon my face. Thank you, God, for hands!

If You Wish

Ralph Marston

If you wish to be respected, then be ever respectful.
If you wish to be understood, then make it your business to sincerely understand.

If you wish to be appreciated, then be ever grateful.
If you wish to be loved, then give love in each moment.

If you wish to be wealthy, then act to create real value.
If you wish to learn, then take time to teach.

If you wish to climb higher, then lift others up.
If you wish to be wise, then share what you know.

Whatever you wish, life will surely give it.
What you must do, though, is to truly live it.

There is so much to live for and so much to see.
You will have whatever you are willing to be.

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