Am so sorry I haven't posted for a long time, but it's because i was a bit sick. Now am almost well, thanks be to God. Today am not well enough to blog either, so am gonna live you with two great motivational stories by some guys. The stories are 100% true, and I hope they will help you alot.
Tommorow, however, I'll blog something you do not want to miss. Tommorow we'll be speaking about Sex! Yea, you heard me right, SEX EDUCATION for teens.
DON’T HOPE,…DECIDE!
While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon,
I had one of those life-changing experiences that you hear other people talk
about — the kind that sneaks up on you unexpectedly. This one occurred a mere
two feet away from me.
Straining to locate my friend among the passengers
deplaning through the jet way, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two
light bags. He stopped right next to me to greet his family.
First he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years
old) as he laid down his bags. They gave each other a long, loving hug. As they
separated enough to look in each other’s face, I heard the father say, “It’s so
good to see you, son. I missed you so much!” His son smiled somewhat shyly,
averted his eyes and replied softly, “Me, too, Dad!”
Then the man stood up, gazed in the eyes of his oldest
son (maybe nine or ten) and while cupping his son’s face in his hands said,
“You’re already quite the young man. I love you very much, Zach!” They too hugged a most loving, tender hug.
While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or
one-and-a-half) was squirming excitedly in her mother’s arms, never once taking
her little eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father. The man said,
“Hi, baby girl!” as he gently took the child from her mother. He quickly kissed
her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her from
side to side. The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her head on his
shoulder, motionless in pure contentment.
After several moments, he handed his daughter to his
oldest son and declared, “I’ve saved the best for last!” and proceeded to give
his wife the longest, most passionate kiss I ever remember seeing. He gazed
into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed. “I love you so
much!” They stared at each other’s eyes, beaming big smiles at one another,
while holding both hands.
For an instant they reminded me of newlyweds, but I knew
by the age of their kids that they couldn’t possibly be. I puzzled about it for
a moment then realized how totally engrossed I was in the wonderful display of
unconditional love not more than an arm’s length away from me. I suddenly felt
uncomfortable, as if I was invading something sacred, but was amazed to hear my
own voice nervously ask, “Wow! How long have you two been married?
“Been together fourteen years total, married twelve of
those.” he replied, without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife’s face.
“Well then, how long have you been away?” I asked. The man finally turned and
looked at me, still beaming his joyous smile. “Two whole days!”
Two days? I was stunned. By the intensity of the
greeting, I had assumed he’d been gone for at least several weeks – if not
months. I know my expression betrayed me.
I said almost offhandedly, hoping to end my intrusion
with some semblance of grace (and to get back to searching for my friend), “I hope my marriage is still that passionate
after twelve years!”
The man suddenly stopped smiling.
He looked me straight in the eye, and with forcefulness
that burned right into my soul, he told me something that left me a different
person. He told me, “Don’t hope, friend… decide!” Then he flashed me his
wonderful smile again, shook my hand and said, “God bless!”
- By Michael D. Hargrove
and Bottom Line Underwriters, Inc.
Copyright 1997
I got my friend Monty
Roberts who owns a horse ranch in San Ysidro. He has let me use his house to put on
fund-raising events to raise money for youth at risk programs.
The last time I was there he introduced me by saying, “I want to tell you
why I let
Jack use my horse. It all
goes back to a story about a young man who was the son of an itinerant horse
trainer who would go from stable to stable, race track to race track, farm to
farm and ranch to ranch, training horses. As a result, the boy’s high school career
was continually interrupted. When he was a senior, he was asked to write a
paper about what he wanted to be and do when he grew up.
“That night he wrote a seven-page paper describing his goal of someday
owning a horse ranch. He wrote about his dream in great detail and he even drew
a diagram of a 200-acre ranch, showing the location of all the buildings, the
stables and the track. Then he drew a detailed floor plan for a
4,000-square-foot house that would sit on a 200-acre dream ranch.
“He put a great deal of his heart into the project and the next day he
handed it in to his teacher. Two days later he received his paper back. On the
front page was a large red F (Yea, In America they give people F. You have to thank God you Kenyans that the lowest grade you can recieve is an E. In Asia, however, I hear there are only two grades available in their curriculum. you either get an A or you get an E. Unbelievable? Believe it.) with a note that read, `See me after class.’
“The boy with the dream went to see the teacher after class and asked, `Why
did I receive an F?’
“The teacher said, `This is an unrealistic dream for a young boy like you.
You have no money. You come from an itinerant family. You have no resources.
Owning a horse ranch requires a lot of money. You have to buy the land. You
have to pay for the original breeding stock and later you’ll have to pay large
stud fees. There’s no way you could ever do it.’ Then the teacher added, `If
you will rewrite this paper with a more realistic goal, I will reconsider your
grade.’
“The boy went home and thought about it long and hard. He asked his father
what he should do. His father said, `Look, son, you have to make up your own
mind on this. However, I think it is a very important decision for you.’
“Finally, after sitting with it for a week, the boy turned in the same paper,
making no changes at all.
He stated, “You can keep the F and I’ll keep my dream.”
Monty then turned to the assembled
group and said, “I tell you this story because you are sitting in my
4,000-square-foot house in the middle of my 200-acre horse ranch. I still have
that school paper framed over the fireplace.” He added, “The best part of the
story is that two summers ago that same schoolteacher brought 30 kids to camp
out on my ranch for a week.” When the teacher was leaving, he said, “Look,
Monty, I can tell you this now. When I was your
teacher, I was something of a dream stealer. During those years I stole a lot
of kids’ dreams. Fortunately you had enough gumption not to give up on yours.”
“Don’t let anyone steal your dreams. Follow your heart, no matter what.”
- Author Unknown
Admit it: The title really caught your
attention, didn’t it? But before we speak about sex, please read
the dullsville section of today’s blog post for me, will you?
A friend of mine who stays in the USA invited to me to an
event on Facebook called Cover the Night. When I visited
the page for the event, I found out that thousands of people had been invited
too. What could this popular event be? I wondered to myself. Well, I read the
event profile and found out that it was a campaign to popularize a certain Mr.
Kony. Apparently, the organizers wanted youth to buy posters of this Kony man
and stick them everywhere in their towns tonight so as to popularise the guy.
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
'Cause baby, you're a firework