"". Linda Sparkman's Blog: 2012

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Thursday, May 24, 2012

A Life Worth A Lot


I’ve lost my patience, yet again, with a dear fellow believer.  The occasion was reading an e-mail which excerpted a portion of the late Rev. Charles Spurgeon’s writings on exactly what “death” is like for believers.  Aside from the obvious, that God said we will not taste death, it’s not only impossible to describe; it’s nothing to be bothered about. 
I mean, why take up precious minutes we could be carrying on some heavenly, ordained activity by rolling over and over the teeny, tiny amount of time (which, by the way, will be done away with anyway) our being caught up will be like? 
If you must dwell on death, here’s a much more practical exercise, in my opinion.  Just look into your experience right now.  Ok, how dead are you?  How much of your recent thought and activity has been carried out by a fully-dead-to-self-and-self-interests, but instead yielded-completely-to our Savior/Creator/Lord/Master…  Well, how much?
I’ll leave with this encouraging declaration:  The more dead (in this glorious way) you are, the much more alive your experience will be. 
Onward, Upward, and forever HIS.
MB-F-MSAL

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Trouble saying, “No.”?



I’ve just come up with a whiz-bang exercise to help you.  It involves a TV. 

1.  Using your remote, turn TV on a news, morning, or reality show right at the time the show begins.

2. With remote still in your hand, face the screen squarely.

      3.  In the middle of the most earth-shattering statement, speak these words, “No, not right now,” and finish by turning the TV off.  

Now, isn't that a kick?

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Grami's First Day

Charly & Grami
Hi~ I'm Grami.
Today is the day I dreamt of.  It's the first day I'm spending with my Granddaughter, Charly.
Mom returned to work.  Charly is six months old.  

Can you say, "Text message"?  
It's 12:45.  Six hours in, and there's been twenty-three of them so far.  In addition there have been three voice calls.   Dad to me, Me to Dad, Dad to me Dad to me, Mom to me. Mom to me. Me to mom...

Charly has literally not left my sight.  She's been either in my arms, within arms reach, or on the TV screen via short circuit.

The television has been on the entire time, because it requires a programmer to turn it on.  Mercifully, I found the "mute" button.  

This brings me to my reason for writing--I happened to catch a popular morning program when two attractive women engaged in animated conversation.  They were quickly joined by a third woman, even more enthusiastic than the first two women.  

Since I muted the sound, I was able to gain a different perspective.  Smiles gleamed, heads waggled, arms flung.  
"Oh my goodness!," I thought.  "That looks like me!"

Yikes~  Do we all look alike?  Do we gravitate excitedly around any new item, chatter and banter, then make it ours?

I looked over at Charly, who was enjoying gnawing on the face of a doll, and spoke distinctly and adult.  "Maybe I can spare her," I thought.  "Yes, Charly, that is your doll.  Please treat her with respect."

She smiled.  "OOh, r n't you gram's witty snuggli buggi honey-doll?" I squealed, bobbing my head and flailing my arms about.