religion

Several things have brought to my mind the realization that we are all victims of tunnel vision, even though we strive to pretend we are not. It is normal for the most part that we think first and foremost of our own lives, our needs, our joys, our families, and the things we seek to integrate into our lives.

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Parents should strive to love all their children equally, but we all know that is not always the case. Going all the way back to biblical times, we have illustrations of one or both parents loving one son or daughter above the other, showing favoritism, and giving blessing or goods to the preferred child. The children that know they are “less loved” end up suffering, harboring feelings of inadequacy, and growing up bearing this burden.

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I suppose I had dreamed that by the time I reached a certain age or place in life that I would not be fielding quite so many questions. That is not true. I answer questions all day long and into the evenings some of the time, and I find my own questions swim up to the surface and beg for answers during other hours and minutes.

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Brenda Cannon Henley

There are few things in life stronger than the love of a mother for her child. In her heart and body are the elements that sustain the young life until it greets the world in birth, and those same elements grow with each gift of a child. A mother knows her own child, I might add, like no other and can see the good sometimes resting beneath the unkind, mischievous or negligent surface.

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I have a program on my computer that alerts me to special days, birthdays, facts of history, and suggestions for each day. I truly enjoy learning and find something new every single day to add to my storehouse of facts, trivia, fun and serious information. Today, I have spent a good two hours reading about famous Texas women, and in particular, mothers. It is fitting since we are celebrating the Battle of San Jacinto in which Texas won her independence in 1836.

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Amazing that three different little reminders have come to me in the last two days calling my attention once again to the fact that it is the little things that often mean the most. Perhaps you can attribute my newfound opinion to my age, the loss of my husband and many friends, my children growing up and now my grandchildren reaching adulthood, but I know for certain that I value and treasure the little things I once took for granted.

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Shortly after my husband, Ted, passed away in August, I said down and penned an article, but after reading it over, I decided against sending it to my editors. I felt that readers might misconstrue what I had written or, more importantly, what I was feeling deep in my heart. I asked the questions, “Why are you so silent? Don’t you know I need you more than ever? Where are you? Were you really never our friends? Don’t you care at all?” I was hurting and I did not know how to express myself or really what to expect from those I loved.

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Easter is a time when Christians all over the world think of the Lord Jesus Christ, His life, His ministry, and of the crucifixion on the cross. I realize that I write for people of many faiths and that we all perhaps do not believe the same, I cannot help but think of Easter and spring and new birth and the joys of living at this time of the year. I ask that our readers bear with me as I look at the death, burial and resurrection as I have been taught down through the years and as I believe in my heart.

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We all react differently to each life stage as we maneuver through the years God has assigned to us. I learn something new or different every day of my life, and I pray that I never stop learning and growing as I travel on my journey.

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There was a reason I felt compelled to study Ephesians 4 the last two weeks, and it came into clarity for me as the story developed right before my eyes in real time. 

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