These thoughts are added to each day. Scroll down and read previous One A Days.)
(Use in your personal or church newsletters) (365 stories a year)
Now is a good time to tell a story about a wild duck that each fall when the winds grew colder would, with great vigor, flap his wings and aim toward a warmer south.
He had done this for many such seasons but this year was to be different for a disagreeable accident would take place…but then I am getting ahead of my story.
During this particular flight, he had winged as usual past cities and small towns, over highways and dusty roads, but then, as he flew low to get a better view of the land below, he spotted a barnyard.
A great fenced in area full of quacking, domestic-cated ducks being fed. He looked down with great pity and continued to fly on a bit, but on the evening breeze he continued to catch the sweet smell of fine grain such as he had never smelled before. He paused and that was enough. He turned back.
He still had a long ways to go, but he turned back. He began having second and third thoughts. Why not? I can just stop for a free meal and then be on my way.
He set his wings for a perfect three point landing and soon was feasting to his hearts content. He ate greedily and long, so much so that afterwards he was sleepy, very sleepy, and so decided to take an after dinner nap. To his surprise he slept the whole night through.
The next morning when he awakened he was very angry at himself. “I must be off,” he quacked under his breath, and moved to the far end of the yard to give himself room for takeoff. And then he thought to himself, I have a long, long way to go. It would be foolish not to have a going-away breakfast first.
The ending of this story could not be more obvious. He never did fly away. He succumbed to the easy way, the way of the crowd, and opened up the floodgates for what became a life-changing event, the loss of his freedom.
As time went on he remembered less and less what it was like before he joined the crowd and paid the price. (rewrite and edit of a story by Kierkegaard)
What am I saying? I am saying men die spiritually the same way they die physically. Usually by degrees. An ethic is forgotten, a point of honor is denied, an article of faith is misplaced and then no longer sought after. Residence taken up in a valley of indecision. Water is drunk from a lake of procrastination. Food is consumed from a field of false promises.
And the harvest? It is then a forest that has none of the seeking of God in it.
Have you considered sharing this site with family or friends? Just have them go to Google Search and type in “Neil Spiritual Vitamins”.
And, yes, maybe they will back track a few weeks to read other of my musings.
DO YOU HAVE A BLOG OR FACEBOOK? IF YOU ENJOY THESE WRITINGS COULD YOU CALL ATTENTION TO THIS BLOG? IF YOU DO, THANKS IN ADVANCE.
(Use in your personal or church newsletters) (365 stories a year)
Now is a good time to tell a story about a wild duck that each fall when the winds grew colder would, with great vigor, flap his wings and aim toward a warmer south.
He had done this for many such seasons but this year was to be different for a disagreeable accident would take place…but then I am getting ahead of my story.
During this particular flight, he had winged as usual past cities and small towns, over highways and dusty roads, but then, as he flew low to get a better view of the land below, he spotted a barnyard.
A great fenced in area full of quacking, domestic-cated ducks being fed. He looked down with great pity and continued to fly on a bit, but on the evening breeze he continued to catch the sweet smell of fine grain such as he had never smelled before. He paused and that was enough. He turned back.
He still had a long ways to go, but he turned back. He began having second and third thoughts. Why not? I can just stop for a free meal and then be on my way.
He set his wings for a perfect three point landing and soon was feasting to his hearts content. He ate greedily and long, so much so that afterwards he was sleepy, very sleepy, and so decided to take an after dinner nap. To his surprise he slept the whole night through.
The next morning when he awakened he was very angry at himself. “I must be off,” he quacked under his breath, and moved to the far end of the yard to give himself room for takeoff. And then he thought to himself, I have a long, long way to go. It would be foolish not to have a going-away breakfast first.
The ending of this story could not be more obvious. He never did fly away. He succumbed to the easy way, the way of the crowd, and opened up the floodgates for what became a life-changing event, the loss of his freedom.
As time went on he remembered less and less what it was like before he joined the crowd and paid the price. (rewrite and edit of a story by Kierkegaard)
What am I saying? I am saying men die spiritually the same way they die physically. Usually by degrees. An ethic is forgotten, a point of honor is denied, an article of faith is misplaced and then no longer sought after. Residence taken up in a valley of indecision. Water is drunk from a lake of procrastination. Food is consumed from a field of false promises.
And the harvest? It is then a forest that has none of the seeking of God in it.
Have you considered sharing this site with family or friends? Just have them go to Google Search and type in “Neil Spiritual Vitamins”.
And, yes, maybe they will back track a few weeks to read other of my musings.
DO YOU HAVE A BLOG OR FACEBOOK? IF YOU ENJOY THESE WRITINGS COULD YOU CALL ATTENTION TO THIS BLOG? IF YOU DO, THANKS IN ADVANCE.
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