Perhaps the World Ends Here

from The Woman Who Fell From The Sky
© Joy Harjo, 1994

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teeth at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.  It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.  Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.  Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.  We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.

At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.  Perhaps the world will end here at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

Buy Milk

A young man had been to Wednesday night Bible Study. The Pastor had spoken about "listening to God and obeying the Lord's voice."

The young man couldn't help but wonder, "Does God still speak to people?" After service he went out with some friends for coffee and pie and they discussed the message. Several different ones talked about how God had led them in different ways. It was about ten o'clock when the young man started driving home. Sitting in his car, he just began to pray,"God, if you still speak to people, speak to me. I will listen. I will do my best to obey."

As he drove down the main street of his town, he had the strangest thought to stop and buy a gallon of milk. He shook his head and said out loud, "God is that you?" He didn't get a reply, so he started on toward home. But again, the thought came to him... buy a gallon of milk.

The young man thought about Samuel, and how he didn't recognize the voice of God, and how little Samuel ran to Eli. "Okay, God, in case that is you, I will buy the milk." It didn't seem like too hard a test of obedience. He could always use the milk. So, he stopped and purchased the gallon of milk and started toward home.

As he passed Seventh Street, he again felt the urge, "Turn down that street." This is crazy, he thought, and drove on past the intersection. Again, he felt that he should turn down Seventh Street. At the next intersection, he turned back and headed down Seventh. Half jokingly, he said out loud, "Okay, God, I will".

He drove several blocks, when suddenly, he felt like he should stop. He pulled over to the curb and looked around. He was in a semi-commercial area of town. It wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst of neighborhoods either. The businesses were closed and most of the houses looked dark, like people were already in bed.

Again, he sensed something, "Go and give the milk to the people in the house across the street." The young man looked at the house. It was dark and it looked like the people were either gone or they were already asleep. He started to open the door and then sat back in the car seat. "Lord, this is insane. Those people are asleep and if I wake them up, they are going to be mad and I will look stupid."

Again, he felt like he should go and give the milk. Finally, he opened the door and said, "Okay God, if this is you, I will go to the door and I will give them the milk. If you want me to look like a crazy person, okay. I want to be obedient. I guess that will count for something but, if they don't answer right away, I am out of here."

He walked across the street and rang the bell. He could hear some noise inside. A man's voice yelled out, "Who is it? What do you want?" Then the door opened before the young man could get away. The man was standing there in his jeans and T-shirt. He looked like he just got out of bed. He had a strange look on his face and he didn't seem too happy to have some stranger standing on his doorstep.

The man asked, "What is it?"

The young man thrust out the gallon of milk and said, "Here, I brought this to you," he said. The man took the milk and rushed down a hallway speaking loudly in Spanish. Then from down the hall came a woman carrying the milk toward the kitchen. The man was following her holding a baby. The baby was crying. The man had tears streaming down his face. The man began speaking and half crying, "We were just praying. We had some big bills this month and we ran out of money. We didn't have any milk for our baby. I was just praying and asking God to show me how to get some milk." His wife in the kitchen yelled out,"I ask him to send an angel with some. Are you an Angel?"

The young man reached into his wallet and pulled out all the money he had on him and put it in the man's hand. Then he turned and walked back toward his car and tears were streaming down his face. He knew then that God does still speak to people... and answer prayers.

http://www.inspire21.com/stories/faithstories/buythemilk

Where's the Fudge.

This website is full of daily devotionals for someone who is a chocoholic.
http://www.peggiesplace.com/booster340.htm 
She has links to various chocolate items etc on the net.
With this blog I felt there were too many links to this and that, so I have linked you to one page that has a short devotional on it.

There is one more thing I found really annoying but maybe you won't and that is it plays music.

The Chocolate Touch

I found this one some time ago and wanted to share it with you.  Its a bit of fun with a good thought at the finish.  So sit back and read especially all those chocolate lovers.  If only life was like this!

Remember the story of King Midas, whose greed caused him to wish that everything he touched would turn to gold? At first his new life seemed glorious. All the wealth he could ever want was at his fingertips! But then he touched a rose, and when the newly golden flower lost its scent, he was struck with a twinge of sadness. His melancholy deepened when the bird he touched could no longer sing through its gold beak. But what finally broke the king’s heart was when he reached out to touch his precious daughter, and she turned into a statue of gold before his eyes. The moral of the story? There are many things in life more important than money.

I'd like to propose a different sort of story for us here. Instead of The Midas Touch, our story is called "The Chocolate Touch". In this tale we meet sweet Candace (called "Candy" by those who loved her), who desired chocolate as she desired breath. Now, this was a woman who knew her chocolate. She could discourse for hours about the presentation, snap, and mouth-feel of the various chocolate brands. She could explain at length the myth of white chocolate and expound extensively on the emotional fluctuations caused by chocolate’s theobromine content. Candy could even tell what kind of filling was in each bonbon or truffle without secretly poking a hole in the bottom or nibbling off a tiny edge. She instinctively knew how to avoid the dreaded nougat and choose the raspberry cream instead. perhaps inspired by her Great-Uncle Midas, Candy wished that all she touched would turn to chocolate. To her delight, her wish was granted by the fairy of Chocolate land, Queen Godiva.

Candy quickly reached out to a nearby honeysuckle bush, and the leaves turned to chocolate / a delicious garnish for her chocolate cheesecake later that evening, she thought. Next she let her hand fall upon a pecan tree, and immediately she had unlimited access to wonderfully nutty chocolate bark. When a little rabbit crossed her path, she reached out and watched it turn into a solid chunk of chocolaty sweetness. (Didn’t you ever wonder how the idea for chocolate Easter bunnies was conceived?)

As the day progressed, Candy touched item after item around her house and neighborhood.  Just think of all the money I’ll save on Valentine’s Day presents this year! she gloated as she turned rose after rose into rich chocolate delicacies. Soon her entire home was transformed. Even her car was racing on chocolate syrup fuel in its cocoa-dust-covered engine. Life had never seemed better.

But finally, as with King Midas, Candy’s day took a turn for the worse. Her beloved son, Hershey, came home from school and reached up to kiss her. (He wasn’t old enough yet to be embarrassed by displays of affection.) At that instant he was forever frozen in time.  The world’s first Hershey’s Kiss. (Well, it might have happened that way!)

The moral of this bittersweet story. No, it’s not that I have a corny sense of humor (and an obvious love for chocolate). Rather, it's that we need to be aware of the vast number of touches we make each and every day. Of course, it would be impossible to list every surface our hand touches over a twenty-four-hour period.  Every doorknob, every handle, every tabletop, every cup or dish; we simply have our fingers on too many things and in too many places.

Yet most of us could track the number of people we touch in a day. Think about it. Each encounter, no matter how brief, would count. Your spouse and children, the crossing guard you wave to as you leave for work, the attendant at the petrol station, your coworkers, the clerk at the post office, the kid who sells you burgers and fries for dinner, the friend you chat with on the phone or via e-mail the list might be long, but not impossible to make.

Now think: What is your touch on these lives? Some people you touch consistently like those in your family or at work. Others You touch here and there. Perhaps casual friends or people you volunteer with in your community. And some you touch just once in a while in a random way.  Of course, no one turns to gold or chocolate when your hand, your voice, or your influence touches them. But you can still leave a lasting impression that changes the course of their hours, their days, even their lives.

When Jesus walked the earth, people everywhere wanted to touch him and be touched by him. Through his touch, the blind could see and the lame could walk. The sick were healed. And people caught in the snare of sin were set free. No wonder the crowds clamored for the touch of the Savior!

Do people long for your touch or do you sense that they draw back? Is your touch as valuable as gold to your loved ones, as sweet as chocolate? Or is it as hard as nails? Does your touch bring blessing and healing to the people around you.or pain and heartache?

As we continue to explore the impact of a woman’s touch, evaluate your own touches each step of the way. Start keeping a mental list of those people you touch on a regular basis, as well as those you touch less frequently. And start thinking about different ways your touch can bring joy, comfort, restoration, and blessing to their lives.

Lord, your touch is more precious than gold and sweeter than chocolate. Thank you for touching my life. Now open my eyes to see all those I touch, and help me to make my touch a blessing in their lives.

[God’s ordinances] are more precious than gold, than much pure gold; they are sweeter than honey, than honey from the comb. (Psalm 19:10)

Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a chocolate bar in the cupboard that’s calling my name.