Contentment In Success – Making Time For Others

 “No one has ever become poor by giving.” – Anne Frank, diary of Anne Frank
“Those who are happiest are those who do the most for others.”
Booker T. Washington, Up from Slavery  

Contrary to popular opinion, getting what I need by ignoring the needs of those around me is a sure path to unhappiness. There’s a spiritual principal that determines my happiness is dependent on giving time, energy, or provision to those around me. When I focus on helping others along the way, I’m equipped to be happier and more content then ever possible. This isn’t so that my happiness and goals are dependent on other people but it’s to consider the needs of others along the way to my goals. When I lay down my plans to assist someone along my way, when I give place to compassion, I discover a key to all success (with success being defined not only as an increase, but as contentment in that increase). Take time today to look outside your world, look beside your path, and find those that need help. As you help them, you are helping yourself to find the best life possible and be content in your success.


My Tree

Inspired by the death of a friend, the birth of a granddaughter, an ache in my aged bones, and the prayers of my youth.


Mixed emotions gather in mushroomed gray lined clouds, a fever pitch of worried concern and loss of beloved companions. Friends carried away like leaves in the gusts, piling against some unseen barrier far away from my tree. Familial doves alight from my branches in pursuit of a roost built by man. Could this tree ever hold them? Life is a tornado of ever changing events, blink and their gone, but I need to close my eyes, the dust of change causes pain. Age pursues me with a ravenous appetite, lying like a pride of lions before the pool of forever hope. Will I drink, or will I be consumed, to be a part of something else, my bones becoming their bones, my blood bringing health to their blood? Sweet Peace, where have you hidden yourself? Are you in the garden, hiding behind a tree? Come to me and share your priceless trinkets. Blinking back tears, pressing against the incoming tide, I swallow inevitable foamed certainties. I pulled an old jar from the ground beneath my tree. In it I hid inscribed hope with these words: God dances over me with joy and He will give me rest. I close my eyes in a sleep that only comes to those who labored hard in the fields, harvesting crops of contentment from the begrudging earth.