Happy Cab

“A cheerful heart is good medicine."  ~ Proverbs 17:22

No doubt - his next passenger was an investment banker – the Canali suit, Borelli dress shirt and Franco tie gave him away.  Ferragmo’s completed the uniform.  Since most people regard investment bankers as greedy drains on the economy in that "vampire squid" sort of way, you’d think they’d dress less conspicuous.  But a fare was a fare and he was a terminally happy guy – a man who found the word of God could make his life seem less insane.

Mogamee jumped out of the taxi and put Jere’s suitcase in the trunk and hopped back into the driver’s seat.  As the two shook hands, Mogamee introduced himself and asked what kind of music Jere liked.

 “Surprise me, he said and drifted back into oblivion as the taxi rumbled some Carlos Santana.  “You can’t help but feel joyful if you’re listening to Santana,” Mogamee said with a smile.

Jere’s throbbing headache fit his disastrous day.  He hardly  slept in days.  The huge account he’d courted for months slipped away this morning.  His teenaged daughter’s application to Princeton had been rejected.  And to top it all off, he’d landed a Jamaican cab driver whose English was nearly incomprehensible. 

But unlike most cabs, this car was immaculate. The carpets were freshly vacuumed, and the cab actually smelled nice.  That was something!  Jere closed his eyelids and tried to relax.  But as the cab approached LaGuardia airport, he realized he’d forgotten his wallet at home.  “Could this day get any worse?”

Jere fumbled through his pockets, trying to explain things to the taxi driver and scrounge up enough cash to pay the $35 fare.  He found his passport – that was something!

Mogamee said “Catch you next time Mac!”  He then retrieved Jere’s bag from the trunk and carried it to the airport’s door.   

“Thank you!” Jere offered thankfully.  “Give me your address.  I’ll pay you back.”

Mogamee reached into his pocket, pulled out an old receipt and wrote down an address.   “You can drop off my money here,” he said.  They said goodbye with another handshake. 

When he returned from LA, Jere went to the address Mogamee gave me and found himself in front of a soup kitchen with a sign out front that read, “Accepting cash donations to feed the hungry.”  God had placed an angel in his path again; he wondered how many times he’d failed to recognize them.  He walked in and wrote a check for $1,000.

Life is full of positive experiences.  Notice the sun warming your skin, the small child learning to walk, and the smiling faces around you.  Smell the rain; feel the wind.  Live your life to the fullest potential by reveling in the beauty of these experiences, and letting them inspire you to be the most positive version of YOU.

 

Lord Jesus, help me live each day intentionally, with a positive attitude?  Help me embrace life’s challenges with a smile on my face?  Help me surround myself with people who make me better.  Amen

Gentle Nudges

“Do you want me to be hard on you or to be kind and gentle?" ~ 1 Corinthians 4:21

Tanner hated going to the cemetery and wanted to make sure his Mom knew it.  Pouting, sulking and whining were just three of the things he excelled at.  He wrinkled his nose and rolled down the window before declaring, “This car stinks like lilacs!”  Some Saturday he thought, visiting dead people while everyone else is grilling burgers and playing baseball.

Calvary Cemetery was nicer than Tanner remembered; it was park-like.  Tall trees shaded rolling green hills.  A quiet pond glistened in the sunshine.  It was the perfect setting for silent reflection and reliving memories gone bye.

Mom handed him the sprinkling can, pointed to a distant faucet and motioned for him to fill it.  When Tanner returned with the water, Mom said, “These three graves are ours: Great Grandpa, Uncle Max, and Cousin Tony.  We’re planting flowers for each one.  Your Papa gets the zinnias, he loved bright colors, even their front door was bright red.”

Tanner thought of his bedroom at home.  Mom had wanted him to decorate it in pale blue, but Tanner chose red – a scarlet rug, “Big Red” posters, a red striped bedspread.  I’ll bet Papa would have liked it, he thought.

Tanner found the grass clippers and clipped around Uncle Maxwell’s grave.  “What was Uncle Max like?” he asked.

Mom planted petunias in front of his headstone.  “He was full of mischief but very entertaining.  He loved to tell jokes and stories.  Max was a doctor.  Everyone said he cured his patients by making them laugh.  He died the same year you were born.”

That must be why Mom named me Tanner Maxwell, he reasoned.  Tanner had never liked that name much.  But now, thinking about his happy, joke-telling uncle, it didn’t seem as bad as he’d always thought.

With a little broom, Mom began sweeping dust off the gravestones. “Can I do that?” Tanner asked. “I’m done with the clipping!  Tell me about Cousin Tony, am I anything like him?”

“Hmm,” Mom wrinkled her forehead. “Cousin Tony didn’t like coming to the cemetery either!” They both laughed.

When they’d finished, Tanner looked back at neat, colorful graves.  Helping care for them had given him a warm feeling inside.  He felt closer to family members he’d never met – and to Mom also.  Maybe that’s a good reason for coming back next year.

Sometimes the best lessons come from doing things we didn’t want to do in the first place.  Maybe that gentle nudge from God turned into a treasure map for spiritual growth.  So long as we don’t push back, our senses come alive, our understanding quickens, our faith magnifies.

Dear Lord, we get busy.  We get distracted.  We miss out on Your soft nudges and gentle whispers.  But You still wait patiently.  I want to be more like Jesus . . . I just don’t always know how.  Forgive me!  Teach me!  Heal me!  Amen

You Can't Do It Alone

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as if working for God."  ~ Colossians 3:23

Asthma and athletics are an odd mix; most sports require fitness and stamina.  Asthma - a respiratory condition that causes wheezing and coughing – makes working out tricky.  Jenna wanted to join the school’s cross country team anyway.

She hated running but joined because friends persuaded her.  Waking every morning before sunrise, Jenna slipped into spandex shorts, and oversized hooded sweatshirt, and running shoes.  Though the ground was blanketed in dew and fog covered the earth, they found this the perfect time to practice.

She worked harder than most, but no matter how hard she trained, she always finished dead last.  When she offered to quit citing her shame in ‘pulling the team down’ – Coach did the sensible thing.  She promptly refused to let her give up.  She kept encouraging everyone to push themselves.  And she never gave up on Jenna.

 

The final meet drew hundreds of middle-school competitors.  The first 100 to finish were promised a silver running shoe necklace.

Jenna quickly fell behind, but she kept running.  Determined!  Only God knew how hard she tried!  Friends passed her and cheered her on.  She was so tired – she needed to rest. 

“Only 500m to go - finish strong!” shouted a voice from the crowd.  Jenna blinked hard, was she dreaming?  She had no idea how many runners had passed her already.  Could she possibly be “in the money?”

Picking up her weary legs and pumping her arms harder, she saw the finish line 300m now before her.  Two other girls matched her pace stride for stride.   “Keep it up girl, you can do it,” came the now familiar Coach’s voice.

She made one final push leaving the other two in the dust  . . . her dust.  It felt great for once to pass someone.   She crossed the finish line checking her time – a new personal record.  Well, that’s something!  A track official greeted her with a beautiful key chain – she had finished 99^th.  For the first time ever, she wasn’t the race’s derrière!

At the school assembly the following week, Coach shared their results – top honors, trophies and ribbons.  He told of how proud he was of all their hard work.  Jenna felt herself slinking down; 99^th place clearly didn’t deserve his praise.

When Coach mentioned her name specifically, terror gripped her like a vise.  She told the audience that she was especially proud of Jenna.  “She never let roadblocks change her goals – but achieving them changed her own life!  You see,” she continued, “winning is about heart, not just legs.  It’s not always who wins the race.  What’s more important is encouraging each other and doing your best.”

Kids, I’m always with you, not just when things are going well, but especially when they’re not.  When in doubt, just close your eyes and talk to Me.  I parted the Red Sea, I can handle your worries.  ~ Your Father

Ridley's Rebirth

“Charm can be deceiving, and good looks fade away, but one who honors the LORD deserves to be praised.”  ~ Proverbs 31:30

Ridley, a flashy grullo stallion strutted about the meadow; three mares in tow.  His silver-grey coat, fiery nostrils, and wide eyes kept him popular with the ‘ladies.’   He protected them gallantly; should a stray dog enter the field, Ridley would charge with ears flat back and teeth bared.  During foaling time when his mare was in labor, he’d pace the fence braying encouragement to her.  He wouldn’t leave to eat or drink until his foal was safely delivered.

Despite his many good qualities, he had one overpowering vice.  Ridley wanted to be perfect in every way.

He often prayed for more beauty: "Lord, you gave me many good qualities.  For these I am grateful!  But how I wish you would make me more beautiful.  I deserve happiness.”

One day God answered.  "I’m ready to make you more attractive.  Just tell me what you’d like changed."

Stunned yet elated, the pompous horse spoke boldly.  "It seems to me that I’m not well proportioned.  My neck’s too short.  If you’d make my neck a little longer, my upper body will be noticeably more beautiful.  I’d like to stand taller.  If you’d make my legs longer and thinner, then I’ll look infinitely more beautiful in my lower body."

God answered, "Amen!" and with that, a camel appeared instantly where the stallion had once stood.  

Ridley started to cry.   "No no, I don’t wish to be a camel.  As a horse everyone valued my good qualities.  Nobody will appreciate me as a camel."

God replied, "Beauty comes in many forms.  Every creature in my Kingdom has its own wonderful qualities.  The camel may not be as outwardly beautiful as a horse, but its beauty lies within.  Few animals can carry heavier loads or more responsibility.”

Most of us scrutinize our appearance.  Teenage years are especially plagued with self-doubt and self-consciousness.  Many teens don’t like the way they look or feel.   Some adults aren’t much better, spending billions each year on cosmetic “do-overs.”

One way to combat this is to focus on the things that you love about yourself, physical or otherwise.  When you look in the mirror instead of focusing on the things you don’t like about yourself (like big ears or small lips) focus on the good things (like a warm smile, endearing eyes, or friendly personality).

Most people probably don’t notice your “flaws.”  They may just be a big deal to you.   Think about it – do you judge people on one physical attribute?   Chances are you don’t; you probably take in the whole person.  That’s what other’s do too.

Divine Friend, I know how to criticize myself, I’ve had a lot of practice.  But I’m realizing it keeps me feeling small.  And that keeps me from contributing the beauty in my soul.  Help me accept and love myself as I am.  Amen

Grass Isn’t Always Greener

“Do your work enthusiastically, as though you were serving the Lord himself, and not just your earthly master.” ~ Colossians 3:23

Joey dreamed of mowing lawns almost since he was old enough to walk.  He wasn’t sure whether it was the smell of freshly cut grass, the thrill of operating dangerous equipment, or just the joy of summer that he loved most.  By age 13, he’d saved enough from odd jobs and a small allowance to buy a used mower.

Joey stirred sleepily in his bed as the first Saturday of spring announced its arrival with sweet chirping sounds outside his half-open window.  He jumped up, filled his lungs with fresh air and drank in the sunshine.  Winter had officially said its goodbyes.  And after last week's rain, the grass seemed greener.  

As the fog of slumber cleared from his head, Joey bounded down the stairs to greet the day.  Grabbing a quick breakfast snack, he raced to the garage.  A few rope pulls and his well-worn machine choked to life.

Memories of his grandfather mowing the yard surfaced, his trademark pipe clenched firmly between his teeth.  He was a bulldog of a man with a quick temper and always ready with a pinch on the ear lobe for any misbehavior.

He grabbed his cell phone and headed for his favorite park bench.  Time to line up some summer jobs, he thought.  An older woman answered his call on the second ring.

“Good morning M’am” Joey said politely.  “Can you give me the job of cutting your lawn?”  The woman at the other end answered, “I already have someone who cuts my lawn.”

“I’d be willing to cut your lawn for $5 less than the person who cuts it now,” Joey offered.  The woman answered, “I’m quite satisfied with my current lawn mowing service, thank you!”

So Joey ‘sweetened’ the deal: “M’am, I’ll even trim your bushes and plant your flowers for free.”

“You seem very nice young man,” she said kindly.  “But, no, thank you.” Then she hung up.

With a smile on his face, Joey prepared to make his next call.

A man, who overheard Joey’s side of the conversation, approached the boy.  “Son, I like your attitude; I love that positive spirit and would like to offer you a job.”

“No thanks,” Joey said unexpectedly.

“But you were just pleading for one,” the man questioned.

“No Sir,” Joey countered.  “I’m already working for the lady I was talking to!  I was just checking her satisfaction with my work.”

Our actions reflect who we are . . . how people view us.  Successful people go beyond the bare minimum and consistently give more than expected.  God shaped you for a purpose and He expects you to make the most of what you've been given. 

Lord, I know that my best effort does not always translate into my best result.  But greatness comes from doing many small things well.  Help me always give my         best effort and create habits that’ll pave the way for everlasting life.  Amen

The Bookshop

“Teach your children well.  When grown, they’ll stay on the right path.” ~ Proverbs 22:6

Jon loved books – they were his muse, his inspiration, his escape.  Friends suspected that he was never completely in reality; a little piece of him was always in a distant land, on a fantasy adventure or in the middle of a mystery.

Some of the happiest hours of his life were spent in dusty, damp used-bookshops.  There he’d discovered mummified silverfish, pressed flowers and an occasional love letter in books long undisturbed on their shelves.  What a delight it was to find the word “rare” penciled on the title page by the bookseller, though the fact that the book remained unsold for years, possibly decades, suggested that buyers were scarcer still.

It was such a blessing to enter a store whose window bore no exciting displays or decoration, but instead boasted a thin layer of dust and humble tranquility.  The sound his shoes made against the old wooden floor was the only sound in the shop.

Today, like most of his bookstore journeys, he had no real goal other than the casual browsing that offered time with his young daughter Liza.  Jon watched lovingly as she roamed the kid’s section quietly perusing several possibilities.  Liza too, loved the shop; maybe because she never came home without a book.  Or perhaps it was just the time alone with her Dad that she revered.

He slowly made his rounds “surfing” the Mystery section, then the reference and history books before stopping among the Religion books.  Jon pulled out an oddly familiar book and tried to image what secrets lay behind its badly worn, burgundy-leather cover.  Contrary to the popular cliché, judging a book by its cover was both effective and entertaining. 

The rib’s title intrigued him: “The Most Important Things in Life Aren’t Things.”  He opened it.  On the first page, Jon was shocked to see in familiar hand writing, his own name.  It had been a gift from his (now late) grandfather that he’d misplaced years ago.  Next to his name, Jon’s grandfather wrote, “I hope you rediscover this book someday when you’re older, and it makes you think about the important things in life.”  And so he did.

No matter who we are, where we live, or what our goals may be, we all have one thing in common: a heritage.  That is, a social, emotional and spiritual legacy passed on from parent to child.  Today, if we don't intentionally pass a legacy consistent with our beliefs to our children, our culture will pass along its own, often leading to a disastrous end.  As parents, we’re responsible for the process.  God is responsible for the product.  We can’t do God's job, and He won't do ours.

Heavenly Father, it’s hard for me to comprehend all the incredible miracles You’ve performed since the beginning of time.  Help me remain consistent and steadfast in showing our children the moral path and teaching them about You Lord.  Amen

Tails of Happiness

“As we muddle through the wreckage that’s half hope and half despair, you stand by like an anchor, tail wagging in the air." ~ Sarah Sypniewski “Paws Amidst Pain”

Clyde’s my name – therapy’s my game.  I help humans through grief and loss, pain and suffering, fear and anxiety, sadness and depression.  I have no formal training on the subject; to be honest I can’t even speak English.  I have no therapy couch – my patients get treatment in hospitals, nursing homes, schools, and disaster sites.  I’m a certified Therapy Dog.

I don’t mind that many of them are elderly, disabled, emotionally broken and possibly oblivious to their surroundings.  I love attention from people and accept them just the way they are.   Patients and residents look forward to my visits.  Many of them are lonely, bored and depressed, but their faces light up when they see me.

Larry loves my visits to his nursing home.  I’ve helped him overcome loneliness and boredom by entertaining him with my antics.  We’re more than just loveable canines; the nurses think our visits are one of the best types of therapy.

I’ll never forget Lacey, who fled her abusive home in the middle of the night.  Without the comforts of home, she left with only a small suitcase and without her beloved puppy.  A comforting substitute, I laid at the foot of her bed in the shelter until she found safe, restful sleep.

Sometimes the Red Cross calls me to work with their staff and volunteers at disaster sites around the country.  Their emergency workers labor tirelessly under stressful situations, but even they need a little therapy once in a while.  I provide “hugging time” for those who suffer their own emotional strain in dealing with the devastation of others.

Hal for example, discovered the dead body of a small child washed away in a Midwestern flood.  Dejected and forlorn, he sat trying to erase that memory from a mind that wouldn’t let it go.  I’m not exactly sure how my magic works, but his face brightened as I approached.  He reached out and stroked my fur as I gently nuzzled his leg.  “Thanks boy,” he said, as warm tears ran down both cheeks; defenses broken by a non-threatening, tail-wagging boxer. 

For those who think I’m “just a dog,” you probably “just don’t understand.”  You probably use words like “just a friend” and “just a sunset” too.  Dogs like me can’t heal somebody's wounds, but we do make a difference if you follow our example:

If you’re breathing, that’s reason enough to be cheerful.  Be yourself - it doesn't matter if you don't fit in!  Have fun, hug often, help whenever you can.  Accept everyone for who they are.  Make sure the people you care about know it.  And finally but most important - Bark less . . . wag more!  

Lord Jesus, Protect my friends, Your creatures, who provide happiness and unbridled companionship.  Help me bring joy to all humanity by diverting attention from the worries of the day.  ~ Love Clyde

There Goes the 'Judge'

“Dear friends, never become tired of doing good deeds!” ~ 2 Thessalonians 3:13

Gary loved fast cars.  Old or new, he loved working on them.  He loved the grease beneath his fingernails and the smell of exhaust.  He just loved everything about automobiles.

It was this adoration that drove (pun intended) him to purchase an old wreck he could restore with his son Teddy.  The ’69 Pontiac GTO (‘Judge’) had been sitting on blocks for so long, mice had found a nice home inside it; and the rust was so deep the car was now maroon.  It took a lot of work to return it back to pristine beauty, but father and son did just that. 

 

Their labor of love consumed much of their free time for several years, but it was worth every grease spot on their garage floor.  With its 370 horsepower, V8 Ram Air engine, specially equipped with high flow manifolds and a QuadraJet four-barrel carburetor, the car possessed power and might beyond their wildest dreams.

One night after the grown-ups had gone to bed, 15 year-old Teddy shifted the Judge into neutral, rolled it down the driveway and out of earshot, fired the engine and toured the neighborhood.  God he loved this car!  The rumbling exhaust served as a reminder of the brute power under the hood.  He aimed the car home, turned it off and pushed it back up the driveway . . . into the glare of his father waiting (not so) patiently for his return.

Gary was furious, but also strangely proud of his pimply-faced son.  He had showed respect for the machine, never burning the tires or tearing through the gear box.  So when Teddy graduated from high school, Gary’s gift was the Judge’s ‘pink slip.’  It was the happiest day of his life.  Literally!  Because Teddy’s life went from bad to worse shortly thereafter.

His Dad lost his good paying job as an auto worker.  Later that summer Gary was diagnosed with a cancer that spread quickly.  He died before Christmas, leaving his Mom with a mountain of medical bills, no income and an unpaid mortgage.  The house where Teddy had invested his childhood went up for sale.

To keep his Mom from losing their home, Teddy decided to sell the classic 1969 GTO that they’d restored and babied for as long as he could remember.  An eager collector answered the newspaper ad almost too quickly.  When he realized how passionate Teddy was about the car, he asked, “Son, why are you selling it?”  

Teddy explained without remorse.  The collector handed Teddy some crisp ‘Benjamin’s’ and said, “Here’s $5k in cash.  I’ve got the rest in my briefcase.  I’ll be right back.”  The collector walked out the front door, got in his car and drove away.  

He never returned.

Lord Jesus, may everything I do begin with Your inspiration, continue with Your Help, and reach perfection under Your Guidance.  Help me help others and in so doing, help me improve my health, happiness and disposition.  Amen

Kids Cents

“Young people - set an example for others by what you say and do, as well as by your love, faith, and purity."  ~ 1 Timothy 4:12

As the inky black of night paled to grey dawn, Daren sat up in bed breathing hard and drenched in sweat.  He coaxed himself to lie back down, but was far too restless to sleep.  He needed to get up and do something useful.  So he loaded the dishwasher, took out the trash and pulled out the fixin’s for pancakes. 

He awoke today like he had for the last six straight - with rage still burning, and panic churning.  Patti, his beautiful wife of 23 years, his soul mate, his best friend learned a week ago that she has breast cancer.  Right now, wallowing in self pity is more comforting that those sugary words of encouragement offered by friends imploring him to keep smiling and promising that everything will be alright.

She’ll undergo two 4-course chemo rounds and then radiation.  Daren’s less worried about Patti than he is for himself.  She’s a courageous, loving, cheerful person.  She’ll make it through this just fine.  His wife was sick, but he’s the one falling apart!

[Bills barely get paid now – so what happens when our savings run out?  What happens when I run out of vacation days and can’t take Patti to her chemo appointments?  Lord, why don’t I have cancer instead?  I don’t exercise, my blood pressure’s too high, and right now, I really don’t care!  Today I have to tell three children that their Mommy might die.]

The smell of fresh pancakes brought the entire crew scurrying to the kitchen.  Smiles immediately turned to frowns when the kids noticed Patti’s vacant stare and a box of tissues conspicuously placed on the kitchen table.

“I have a disease called cancer.  The doctors are doing everything they can to make me well,” Patti said hopefully.  “Daddy’s going to take you to school until I get better, OK?”

The room grew deathly quiet.  Fourteen year old Quincy spoke first.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said.  “We’re going to need some extra money for Mom’s medicine and stuff.  If I could borrow our battery operated hair clippers, I could go door-to-door in the neighborhood and let people shave a part of my head for a small donation.  Dad, do you think a $100 goal would be too much?

“It’s a great idea son, but don’t get your hopes up.”

So when he came back home two hours later with a completely bald head and $725, Daren got down on his knees for the first time in a long while, and thanked God.  He knew now that he had the strength to get through this too.  A lesson learned from his teenage son.

Dear Jesus, You gave us children to humble and teach us.  They’re genuine; seldom truly mean or arrogant.  They know about love and showing their feelings.  They take joy from their triumphs.  In grownups – we call that wisdom.   Thank You!

Decision Day

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. ~ Matthew 5:9

He flipped the page on his datebook; already 1947.  Time passes much too quickly the Minister thought.  Only a century earlier his Methodist church had been a part of the “underground railroad,” a secretive network that helped slaves escape northward.  He wished he’d have been part of that history.

A light knock on the door broke his concentration.  “Please come in,” he encouraged.

In stepped a cigar-chomping, deeply religious parishioner.  “Don’t let me interrupt, I can’t talk with you now,” the visitor said as he stepped forward.  “I just need to be here.  Hope you don’t mind.”

 “Of course not,” offered the Minister.  “Please, be my guest!”  He knew this man of course.  A multi-faceted character, he was part executive, crusader, innovator, horse-trader, friend, husband, father, and grandfather.

The two men passed the time without speaking.  The Minister worked on Sunday’s sermon, wondering silently if his guest was on the verge of a shocking confession. 

For nearly an hour the visitor paced nervously, stopping fitfully to peer out the window on the Brooklyn Heights neighborhood that surrounded the church.  Finally he broke the silence.  “I’ve got it,” he shouted, pounding triumphantly on Pastor’s desk.

“Got what?” asked the confused Pastor. 

“Wendell,” the man said, “I’ve decided to sign Jackie Robinson.”  With that, the man known as Branch Ritkey sank into a soft chair and continued.

“This decision so complex, so important, fraught with so many pitfalls but filled with so much good, that I just had to work it out here.  I needed God’s grace and be sure what He wanted me to do.” he confided. 

Rickey donned his worn hat, straightened his bowtie then left the room.  Later he signed the legendary Jackie Robinson, thus breaking baseball’s color barrier forever. 

The rest as they say is history.  Hollywood recently captured part of the story entitled “42.”  But they missed a critical component – the importance of faith in making important decisions.

Rickey knew that the first black player to cross the big league’s “color barrier” would be subjected to intense public scrutiny.  The player would have to be more than a talented athlete to succeed; he’d have to be a man of indelible faith who could resist the temptation to retaliate.  Robinson, a man of profound faith and moral conviction was just the man.

Rickey also knew it was his destiny to integrate baseball.  “It was God’s will,” he’d tell reporters later, a promise made that day in the office of his Pastor, Wendell Fifield.  “Resist not evil” from the Sermon on the Mount reminds us that resisting evil is not a cowardly act – but an extremely heroic one.  Love conquers all!

Loving Father, You told us to “be anxious for nothing . . . My peace will guard our hearts.”  Be with us and guide us with all we do, with all decisions we face, with every person we encounter.  Pour your divine peach on us Lord, Amen.