Unexpected Blessings Quotes

The past was always there, lived inside of you, and it helped to make you who you were. But it had to be placed in perspective. The past could not dominate the future.

When we lose one blessing, another is often most unexpectedly given in its place.

Screwing up is hardly a major mistake. Sometimes your wrong choices bring you to the right places.

Be a light unto the world, and hurt it not. Seek to build not destroy. Bring My people home. How? By your shining example. Seek only Godliness. Speak only in truthfulness. Act only in love. Live the Law of Love now and forever more. Give everything require nothing. Avoid the mundane. Do not accept the unacceptable. Teach all who seek to learn of Me. Make every moment of your life an outpouring of love. Use every moment to think the highest thought, say the highest word, do the highest deed. In this, glorify your Holy Self, and thus too, glorify Me. Bring peace to the Earth by bringing peace to all those whose lives you touch. Be peace. Feel and express in every moment your Divine Connection with the All, and with every person, place, and thing. Embrace every circumstance, own every fault, share every joy, contemplate every mystery, walk in every man’s shoes, forgive every offense (including your own), heal every heart, honor every person’s truth, adore every person’s God, protect every person’s rights, preserve every person’s dignity, promote every person’s interests, provide every person’s needs, presume every person’s holiness, present every person’s greatest gifts, produce every person’s blessing, pronounce every person’s future secure in the assured love of God. Be a living, breathing example of the Highest Truth that resides within you. Speak humbly of yourself, lest someone mistake your Highest Truth for boast. Speak softly, lest someone think you are merely calling for attention. Speak gently, that all might know of Love. Speak openly, lest someone think you have something to hide. Speak candidly, so you cannot be mistaken. Speak often, so that your word may truly go forth. Speak respectfully, that no one be dishonored. Speak lovingly, that every syllable may heal. Speak of Me with every utterance. Make of your life a gift. Remember always, you are the gift! Be a gift to everyone who enters your life, and to everyone whose life you enter. Be careful not to enter another’s life if you cannot be a gift. (You can always be a gift, because you always are the gift—yet sometimes you don’t let yourself know that.) When someone enters your life unexpectedly, look for the gift that person has come to receive from you…I HAVE SENT YOU NOTHING BUT ANGELS.

Life was life. It happened. You never knew what was going to come at you. Or how you could defend yourself.

We all go through hard times in life. It’s a part of being alive and it's the reality we all have to deal with. There are times we forget our value as a person because we are so blinded with these thoughts of loneliness, emptiness and ego. Somewhere along the road we become numbed with all the frustrations and dissatisfaction. But life itself isn't always about darkness and sadness, Life is also filled with colors and that makes it beautiful. Along this path of darkness there's always light waiting to be seen by our daunted hearts. Our heart is gifted to see this light. It may be hiding behind those circumstances that we encounter; in a stranger we just met at an unexpected place; a family who has been always there but you just ignored because of your imperfect relationship with them; it might be a long time friend you have or a friend you just met. Open your heart and you will see how blessed you are to have them all in your life. Sometimes they are the light that shines your path in some dark phases of life. Don't lose hope

When you are convinced that what you offer is yours, whether it be mediocre or of standard quality, your originality will make people love you in a way you did not expect.

What I have learned from the year past is something about miracles--miracles of healing and answered prayer and unexpected happy endings. Each came quietly and simply, on tiptoe, so that I hardly knew it had occurred. All this makes me realize that miracles are everyday things. Not only the sudden, great good fortune, wafting in on a new wind from the sky. They are almost routine, yet miracles just the same. Every time something hard becomes easier; every time you adjust to a situation which, last week, you didn't know existed; every time a kindness falls as softly as the dew; or someone you love who was ill grows better; every time a blessing comes, not with trumpet and fanfare, but silently as night, you have witnessed a miracle.

Sometimes what we think we need isn't what we need at all, and what gets thrown in for good measure is that which fills our hearts.

Maybe we should stop looking at why God doesn’t answer every prayer the way we think He should. But instead we should count it a blessing that He hears our prayers at all.

I believe and declare that a turning point is near and unexpected blessings are on the way.

Fortunately nothing is unexpected with God, and so if I am not with you, know I am with Him and I will see you again one day. Be blessed, my dear Bailey. Be loved. Be open to all God has in store for you. And don’t be afraid to enjoy His gifts.

Mrs. Mudkin closed her eyes. "We should pray." "I ain't praying," Crazy Cora said. Mrs. Mudkin said, "Lord, please bless---" "I ain't praying." "--this land and the people who--" "I ain't praying." "--have toiled on this earth--" "Stop that praying." "I can pray if I want to." "Then be quiet about it.

If you’re reading this you’re already blessed, not that you’re receiving something special, it’s more that you have the existence of sight aiding you. Take a moment to be thankful for what you’ve received, and I’m not speaking in the materialistic vain, but rather for what we undervalue. Be grateful for your ability to take that first breath every morning, to place both feet on the ground and stand, be thankful… Be thankful for the people in your life right this very moment, and those that communicate with you via the internet. Be thankful for the time already spent on this planet, and for what’s to come. I’d like you to stop whatever it is you’re doing this very second, and take a moment for self reflection. That unexpected jolt of reality that life hit’s us with during a crisis or when accolades are given is powerful. None of that is happening right now, so this is the time to show gratitude, and share a moment with no one else but you. Just take a moment and be thankful. What am I most thankful for?... I’m most thankful for doing the best I can with what I’ve got, because I’m cradled in blessings.

Each moment of loss, she has come to believe, contains within it the possibility of a new life. When the unimaginable happens, and your life changes irrevocably, you may find along with the pain a kind of grace. And in the place of certainty and fear—the fear of losing what you had—you are left with something startling: a depth of empathy, a quivering sensitivity to the world around you, and the unexpected blessing of gratitude for what remains.

God was in the business of bringing blessings out of unexpected circumstances, but Lucy didn’t want this twist to her life. … but didn’t God ask the seemingly impossible at times?

There’s never a moment in all our lives, from the day we trusted Christ till the day we see Him, when God is not longing to bless us. At every moment, in every circumstance, God is doing us good. He never stops. It gives Him too much pleasure. God is not waiting to bless us after our troubles end. He is blessing us right now, in and through those troubles. At this exact moment, He is giving us what He thinks is good.

Sounds to me you just haven’t found the right man, is all,” Sage proposed. “When the time comes, it will be when you least expect it. My late husband died three years ago, and Nick and Niki came into my life unexpectedly. My husband ran a background check on me before we met, which was understandable. He had been through a messy divorce. He tried to stay away from me but couldn’t. I’m blessed to have them, including this bundle of joy,” she shone with pleasure.

…growing pale and sober with the thought that her fate was soon to be decided; for, like all young people, she was sure that her whole life could be settled by one human creature, quite forgetting how wonderfully Providence trains us by disappointment, surprises us with unexpected success, and turns our seeming trials into blessing.

That day has come. God is now dealing with us in a new way. Our badness is no longer the obstacle to blessing. Nor is our goodness the condition for blessing.

Know what you want and pray God that you recognize it when you see it....

There are going to be times in our lives when someone else gets an unexpected blessing or receives some special recognition. May I plead with us not to be hurt—and certainly not to feel envious—when good fortune comes to another person? We are not diminished when someone else is added upon. We are not in a race against each other to see who is the wealthiest or the most talented or the most beautiful or even the most blessed. The race we are really in is the race against sin, and surely envy is one of the most universal of those.

...[M]ortals are strange when people die. The more we hated or loved someone, the more we want to remember them. .... When people die, especially in a shocking, violent, or unexpected way, they tend to forgive, or at least forget, what angered them. It’s a blessing of Persephone. She doesn’t like it when people talk ill of the dead, being Queen of the Underworld and everything. It is also why we bring flowers for the dead.

You have to take risks. We will only understand the miracle of life fully when we allow the unexpected to happen. Every day, God gives us the sun - and also one moment when we have the ability to change everything that makes us unhappy. Every day, we try to pretend that we haven't perceived that moment, that it doesn't exist - that today is the same as yesterday and will be the same as tomorrow. But if people really pay attention to their everyday lives, they will discover that magic moment. It may arrive in the instant when we are doing something mundane, like putting our front-door key in the lock; it may lie hidden in the quiet that follows the lunch hour or in the thousand and one things that all seem the same to us. But that moment exists - a moment when all the power of the stars becomes a part of us and enables us to perform miracles. Joy is sometimes a blessing, but it is often a conquest. Our magic moment helps us to change and sends us off in search of our dreams. Yes, we are going to suffer, we will have difficult times, and we will experience many disappointments - but all of these are transitory; it leaves no permanent mark. And one day we will look back with pride and faith at the journey we have taken. Pitiful is the person who is afraid of taking risks. Perhaps, this person would never be disappointed or disillusioned; perhaps she won't suffer the way people do when they have a dream to follow. But when the person looks back - she will never hear her heart saying 'What have you done with the miracles that God planted in your days? What have you done with the talents God has bestowed upon you? You buried yourself in a cave because you were fearful of losing those talents. So this is your heritage, the certainty that you wasted your life.' Pitiful are the people who must realize this. Because when they are finally able to believe in miracles, their life's magic moments will have already passed them by.

C.S. Lewis once said that ‘When we lose one blessing, another is often most unexpectedly given in its place.

The fact is, fear is not going to change one thing. It’s simply an outlet for Satan to find his way into our hearts and detach us from our Savior.

Love of God and people will pave roads where there once were none.

Providence trains us by disappointment, surprises us with unexpected success, and turns our seeming trials into blessings.

when you are chosen for suffering, you are chosen for the blessing of displaying the works of God

This is the essence of faith, isn’t it? To keep hold of the knowledge that this isn’t the end, that there is a promise of heaven, that God can redeem even the most difficult circumstances.

Many, like Henry Knox, saw at once that with the enemy massing for battle so close at hand and independence at last declared by Congress, the war had entered an entirely new stage. The lines were drawn now as never before, the stakes far higher. “The eyes of all America are upon us,” Knox wrote. “As we play our part posterity will bless or curse us.” By renouncing their allegiance to the King, the delegates at Philadelphia had committed treason and embarked on a course from which there could be no turning back. “We are in the very midst of a revolution,” wrote John Adams, “the most complete, unexpected and remarkable of any in the history of nations.

Here we are, all these years later, standing back and watching our grown children have their lives - through ordinary times, through heartbreak and anguish. But even after horrible events, we are sometimes blessed with a moment of unexpected joy. We learn to grasp, to hold tightly to these moments for the short time they exist.

But old Christmas smiled as he laid this cruel-seeming spell on the out-door world, for he meant to light up the home with new brightness, to deepen all the richness of in-door colour, and give a keener edge of delight to the warm fragrance of food: he meant to prepare a sweet imprisonment that would strengthen the primitive fellowship of kindred,and make the sunshine of familiar human faces as welcome as the hidden day-star. His kindness fell but hardly on the homeless--fell but hardly on the homes where the hearth was not very warm, and where the food had little fragrance, where the human faces had no sunshine in them,but rather the leaden, blank-eyed gaze of unexpectant want. But the fine old season meant well; and if he has not learnt the secret how to bless men impartially, it is because his father Time, with unrelenting purpose, still hides that secret in his own mighty, slow-beating heart.

I’ve found that it is in those very moments of darkness that God can come in. In the dark is when His light can shine the brightest. For when we are struggling, unable to hold it all together, is when we surrender. And that is when He can finally pick us up and carry us.

I’ve learned that life twists and turns on you, that unexpected shit falls in your lap, and sometimes it’s a blessing and other times it’s your worst nightmare. Through all of that, I’ve learned that wasting time missing out on the things that really matter is just that—a waste of time.

Freedom is an often paradoxical and unexpected path that is found through kindness and curiosity. What would it mean for you to bless instead of curse your body for experiencing what it felt? Will you cry out with agony for how your desire was misused instead of remaining silent in your shame? Honesty and kindness change the human heart. Contempt for arousal and silence in our shame lead to continual pursuit of unwanted sexual behavior.

Be gracious in your giving for as long as you're living. The blessings will come back on an unexpected day, and present themselves in an unexpected way.

Weather the storm, because sometimes blessings come in unexpected packages.

There is a holiness about your tears. Each one is a prayer that only God can understand. KATHE WUNNENBURG

The redemption of our losses doesn’t make the pain go away; it doesn’t mean the loss didn’t happen. But it does mean that, in even the darkest moment, there can be light again.

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

Beautiful blessings come at the most unexpected hour.

The Beatles were right. All you need is love. Love makes a family, not DNA or background. Love. Just love. Simply love.

We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us. JOSEPH CAMPBELL

Those years in the back diningroom, like some dark tunnel through which one emerges into sunshine, had ended for her in glory. All the time she had been so miserable, she had really been heading straight for this. She was awestruck. Such great and unexpected blessings should bring forth fruit, she vowed, and she would show her gratitude by seeing to it that they did.

There are going to be times in our lives when someone else gets an unexpected blessing or receives some special recognition. May I plead with us not to be hurt - And certainly not to feel envious - when good fortune comes to another person? We are not diminished when someone else is added upon. We are not in a race against each other to see who is the wealthiest or the most talented or the most beautiful or even the most blessed. The race we are really in is the race against sin, and surely envy is one of the many universal of those... coveting, pouting, or tearing others down does not elevate your standing, nor does demeaning someone else improve your self-image. So behind, and be grateful that God is kind. It is a happy way to love.

...she refused to dwell on or even to lament adversities, as she remained determined instead to receive them as though they were disguised blessings from which unexpected benefits would arise in time.

When life is forgiving enough to bless you with a minute, a second, of happiness, there's nothing to do but savor the moment, however odd or unexpected or foolish the source might be. Because who knows when those moments will grace us again.

God still speaks to us. He speaks not from a life of ease, far removed from our suffering. He speaks from the cross, the same place of agony where we live. He speaks as one who joins our suffering wherever we are. He blesses us as he says, “I am with you now in your suffering. Take courage. Soon you will be with me in Paradise.” So we realize that from the cross Jesus enacts the words of Aaron’s benediction. Lifted on the rough beams, Jesus is yet God shining on us in favor. Even when we killed him, Jesus was gracious to us. Lined with pain, cut and bleeding, his countenance yet radiated love. The most shameful thing human beings have ever done, putting the incarnate Son of God to death, has become the greatest sign of his blessing grace.

The highest dream we could ever dream, the wish that if granted would make us happier than any other blessing, is to know God, to actually experience Him. The problem is that we don’t believe this idea is true. We assent to it in our heads. But we don’t feel it in our hearts.

When you suddenly command some unusual, unexpected course of action, then even if it is something you have hitherto forbidden, even if for the time being you conceal the reason for your behest, and even if it contravenes the accepted norms of a human society, can we doubt that it is right to obey, seeing that a human society is just precisely insofar as it serves you? Blessed are they who know that you have commanded them. Everything that is done by your servants is done either to make plain what needs to be revealed at present, or to foreshadow the future.

No, he thought. I didn't die. Not yet. He realized, with surprise, that he was happy. Happiness wasn't what he had thought it was: it was like the dragonfly, a fragile winged thing that arrived, unsought and unexpected, and graced the work of living. You couldn't hunt it down; you couldn't hold it. But sometimes, in a blessed moment, it was there. It was good to be alive.

There’s never a moment in all our lives, from the day we trusted Christ till the day we see Him, when God is not longing to bless us. At every moment, in every circumstance, God is doing us good. He never stops. It gives Him too much pleasure. God is not waiting to bless us after our troubles end. He is blessing us right now, in and through those troubles. At this exact moment, He is giving us what He thinks is good. There, of course, is the rub. He gives us what He thinks is good, what He knows is good. We don’t always agree. We have our own ideas about what a good God should do in the middle of our circumstances… Not only do we want what immediately feels good and often dislike what in fact is good for us, but we’re also out of touch with what would bring us the most pleasure if it were given to us.

When we were lying helpless on the floor, he saw us. When we were crying from breathing the toxic air of this world, he took pity on us. When we were helplessly wallowing about in the blood and water of our birth, crying out for food, for care, he saw us, nodded and reached toward us. When we could have been left to die, when we could have been sold as slaves, the Father said, “Mine!” He took us in his arms and claimed us.

We do not have the right to dictate to God how love will be revealed in our lives. We are open to all the varied and unexpected ways Love can choose to bless and use us. That is all we need to ensure our happiness. One who knows their connection with divine Love can never feel the isolation of loneliness or the fear of being rejected or deserted. One cannot be separated from or turned away from a love that knows no parting and is present and available under all circumstances.

She blessed and thanked and praised those bright reflections shimmering down in the pool, and bade them tell her thanks and her praise to Orion, to whom she might not pray. It was thus that Alveric found her, kneeling, bent down in the dark, and reproached her bitterly. She was worshipping the stars, he said, which were there for no such purpose. And she said she was only supplicating their images. We may understand his feelings easily: the strangeness of her, her unexpected acts, her contrariness to all established things, her scorn for custom, her wayward ignorance, jarred on some treasured tradition every day. The more romantic she had been far away over the frontier, as told of by legend and song, the more difficult it was for her to fill any place once held by the ladies of that castle who were versed in all the lore of the fields we know. And Alveric looked for her to fulfil duties and follow customs which were all as new to her as the twinkling stars. But Lirazel felt only that the stars had not their due, and that custom or reason or whatever men set store by should demand that thanks be given them for their beauty; and she had not thanked them even, but had supplicated only their images in the pool. That night she thought of Elfland, where all things were matched with her beauty, where nothing changed and there were no strange customs, and no strange magnificences like these stars of ours to whom none gave their due.

Love is many things. It is silence within the whisper between softened lips. It is the bond that connects through unspoken words of hands holding on to each other. It is the 'I love you, see you soon' that brings upon the lush of warming hearts that tie together. Love is confusion mixed in with mysterious delight. Love is the path that can go many directions in your journey. You will reach so many unexpected turns but then it is the path you find that brings you to the top of the hill, with that rising sun and glow that connects your souls with the greatest of love and all the deepest pleasures that make your heart beat a little faster, smile more easy and reading each others soul through the look of bliss-filled eyes. Love can take your heart to many places, especially unexpected craziness. But all in all, love has one thing in common - it binds the true hearts that belong together and does work in mysterious, but delightful ways." Copyright © 2013 Amy Masella --- Illinois

Accidentals Something out of place, seen where it doesn’t belong. A surprise on the water like Tundra Swans unexpected and flung far from the Arctic onto a Vermont pond. Me, driving home, seeing all that white with sinewy S-shaped necks out of the corner of my eye. Blessed is an ordinary Wednesday, now etched forever in memory as that Wednesday I went home another way and found myself far flung from work, from home, from whoever I was before black beaks beckoned me while four pairs of wings unfolded.

It is the privilege of wisdom to listen,” Oliver Wendell Holmes once wrote. If I try as hard as I can to cultivate the art of listening—uncritically and without making premature judgments—chances are great that I’ll progress more rapidly in my recovery. If I try as hard as I can to listen to the feelings and thoughts expressed—rather than to the “speaker”—I may be blessed with an unexpectedly helpful idea. The essential quality of good listening is humility, which reflects the fact that God’s voice speaks to us even through the least and most inarticulate of His children.

In the last month, I've realized in a way I never had before that this is and will be my life -- this day-to-day work on and for and with Benj. He will improve and develop and there will be many rewarding moments. But he has a lifelong disability and he will always need loads of effort on his behalf, both in every single interaction with him and with his teachers and therapists. It can be extremely exhausting and overwhelming... But the blessings of being his mother far outweigh the worry and stress and fatigue. Truly he has made me an infinitely stronger, more patient and compassionate person. I can do this.

Unlike in our society, where we hide it, death surrounded medieval people. They had few hospitals, and so churches, poorhouses, and homes handled the dying and dead. Death was not a distant prospect at the end of a long, healthy life. It was integrated into ordinary experience. Medieval life was transitory, a journey through this world that often ended too soon and too abruptly. Death was often violent and unexpected. Extended death, through illness and in one’s own bed, was actually a blessing. Death was part of everyday life; medieval people considered their deaths regularly. Indeed, as one medieval historian puts it, “One of the chief obsessions of medieval Christians was the need to make a ‘good death.’”38

If we have never sought, we seek Thee now; Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars; We must have sight of thorn-pricks on Thy brow, We must have Thee, O Jesus of the Scars. The heavens frighten us; they are too calm; In all the universe we have no place. Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm? Lord Jesus, by Thy Scars, we claim Thy grace. If, when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near, Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine; We know to-day what wounds are, have no fear, Show us Thy Scars, we know the countersign. The other gods were strong; but Thou wast weak; They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne; But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak, And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.[1]

Everything you desire unfolds in the present moment. The past is gone, the future unwritten. The Magic is in Now! Be present, Daydreamers! Immerse yourself in the beauty of your current reality. This is where magic happens, where desires transform into magnificent experiences. Darling listen – stop waiting for some future version of yourself to be something that you are not now. Instead, be so present that you forget about what hasn’t manifested yet (what hasn’t come to life yet). This is the real Manifestation technique…. This is when the big leaps happen. This is when your desires manifest. Sweetheart, the present moment is like fertile ground. It’s where our dreams take root, where our actions have the most impact. Don't miss the power of “Right Now.” May today be filled with unexpected miracles, blissful moments & perhaps, the fulfillment of a long-held wish. Blessings!

But old Christmas smiled as he laid this cruel-seeming spell on the outdoor world, for he meant to light up home with new brightness, to deepen all the richness of indoor color, and give a keener edge of delight to the warm fragrance of food; he meant to prepare a sweet imprisonment that would strengthen the primitive fellowship of kindred, and make the sunshine of familiar human faces as welcome as the hidden day-star. His kindness fell but hardly on the homeless,–fell but hardly on the homes where the hearth was not very warm, and where the food had little fragrance; where the human faces had had no sunshine in them, but rather the leaden, blank-eyed gaze of unexpectant want. But the fine old season meant well; and if he has not learned the secret how to bless men impartially, it is because his father Time, with ever-unrelenting unrelenting purpose, still hides that secret in his own mighty, slow-beating heart.

You're young, though; you'll make a go of it. Just look at her across the road." It was true, Vivien's life had come up roses in the end, but there were a few marked differences between them. "She had a wealthy uncle who took her in," said Dolly quietly. "She's an heiress, married to a famous writer. And I'm..." She bit her bottom lip, anxious not to start crying again. "I'm..." "Well, you're not entirely alone, are you, silly girl?" Lady Gwendolyn had held out her bag of sweets then and for the first time ever offered one to Dolly. It had taken a moment to realize what the old woman was suggesting, but when she did, Dolly had reached tentatively inside the bag to withdraw a red and green gobstopper. She'd held it in her hand, fingers closed around it, aware that it was melting against her warm palm. Dolly had answered solemnly: "I have you." Lady Gwendolyn had sniffed and looked away. "We have each other, I suppose," she'd said, in a voice made fluty by unexpected emotion.

At the beginning of history there was also a garden and a command. God put Adam and Eve in that garden, and they were told not to eat of the Tree. The direction was: “Obey me about the Tree, and you will live”—obey me and I’ll bless you. But they disobeyed. Now there is another garden, and a Second Adam, and another command. Jesus Christ has been sent by the Father to go to the cross, which is also a tree. To the first Adam he said, “Obey me about the Tree and I will bless you”—and Adam didn’t do it. But to the second Adam he says, “Obey me about the Tree and I will crush you”—and Jesus does. Jesus is the first and last person in history to be told that obedience would bring a curse. The Father is saying, essentially, “If you obey me, if you are faithful to me, I will forsake you, cast you off and send your soul into hell.” And yet Jesus obeyed. Even as he was dying, abandoned by his Father, he called him “My God”—words that in the Bible were covenant language, conveying intimacy. Even though he was being forsaken, Jesus was still obeying.

He pulled a battered red photo album from his truck’s glove compartment and showed me pictures of green Azorean fields divided by hedges of lilac-colored hydrangeas. He showed me waves crashing against black volcanic rock and his ancient stone house next to the sea, the home where he returned every summer. “Over there the air is so clean, so nice. The ocean is right there. The fish are fresh, you catch and eat them, and the potatoes are so good, you won’t believe it. “We make wine. Put on shorts and get in there and smash grapes, and when you drink right away is sweet like juice. Every year when we get back from there, we’re fat,” Morais said. He loved his island house in the Azores so much that at the end of each summer, when he left, he had to have someone else close the door for him. “I’m a guy that came from the old country. I never go to school five minutes in this country, and still I work and I do good. I love my money. God bless this country,” he said. “But when I leave to close my door over there, I cry like a baby. I try so hard not to, but I cry.

On that occasion the sort of formality that had been always present in our intercourse vanished from our speech; I believe I called him "dear boy," and he tacked on the words "old man" to some half-uttered expression of gratitude, as though his risk set off against my years had made us more equal in age and in feeling. There was a moment of real and profound intimacy, unexpected and short-lived like a glimpse of some everlasting, of some saving truth. He exerted himself to soothe me as though he had been the more mature of the two. "All right, all right," he said, rapidly, and with feeling. "I promise to take care of myself. Yes; I won't take any risks. Not a single blessed risk. Of course not. I mean to hang out. Don't you worry. Jove! I feel as if nothing could touch me. Why! this is luck from the word Go. I wouldn't spoil such a magnificent chance!" . . . A magnificent chance! Well, it was magnificent, but chances are what men make them, and how was I to know? As he had said, even I—even I remembered—his—his misfortune against him. It was true. And the best thing for him was to go.

The absurd chatter of the half-caste had given more reality to the miserable dangers of his path than Stein’s careful statements. On that occasion the sort of formality that had been always present in our intercourse vanished from our speech; I believe I called him “dear boy,” and he tacked on the words “old man” to some half-uttered expression of gratitude, as though his risk set off against my years had made us more equal in age and in feeling. There was a moment of real and profound intimacy, unexpected and short-lived like a glimpse of some everlasting, of some saving truth. He exerted himself to soothe me as though he had been the more mature of the two. “All right, all right,” he said rapidly and with feeling. “I promise to take care of myself. Yes; I won’t take any risks. Not a single blessed risk. Of course not. I mean to hang out. Don’t you worry. Jove! I feel as if nothing could touch me. Why! this is luck from the word Go. I wouldn’t spoil such a magnificent chance!”... A magnificent chance! Well, it was magnificent, but chances are what men make them, and how was I to know? As he had said, even I — even I remembered — his — his misfortune against him. It was true. And the best thing for him was to go.

Therefore Flora said, though still not without a certain boastfulness and triumph in her legacy, that Mr F.'s Aunt was 'very lively to-day, and she thought they had better go.' But Mr F.'s Aunt proved so lively as to take the suggestion in unexpected dudgeon and declare that she would not go; adding, with several injurious expressions, that if 'He'--too evidently meaning Clennam--wanted to get rid of her, 'let him chuck her out of winder;' and urgently expressing her desire to see 'Him' perform that ceremony. In this dilemma, Mr Pancks, whose resources appeared equal to any emergency in the Patriarchal waters, slipped on his hat, slipped out at the counting-house door, and slipped in again a moment afterwards with an artificial freshness upon him, as if he had been in the country for some weeks. 'Why, bless my heart, ma'am!' said Mr Pancks, rubbing up his hair in great astonishment, 'is that you? How do you do, ma'am? You are looking charming to-day! I am delighted to see you. Favour me with your arm, ma'am; we'll have a little walk together, you and me, if you'll honour me with your company.' And so escorted Mr F.'s Aunt down the private staircase of the counting-house with great gallantry and success. — Little Dorrit, Charles Dickens

You had hoped in love. You had believed in its existence. Its goodness. The richness of a life bathed in it. You went in search of it. Hoping. Longing. Risking. Trusting. And at some point you found love, or what you thought was love. And you gladly immersed yourself in it. Freely. Joyfully. With the whole of your being. And then at some point, it turned. Violently. Wickedly. It did what loves doesn’t do, or least what it’s not supposed to do. It used you. Betrayed you. Wounded you. And then it cast you off to some cold isolated place to somehow bear your pain in the worst kind of loneliness imaginable. And in those places we are left with the bitter feeling that love was a grand hoax. A childish hope. An antiquated myth set on wounding those who fall prey to its seductive promises. But I would tell you to never let those who abuse love define it through their abuse of it. To the contrary, there is something pristine and untouchable about love. Something transformational. Life-altering. Life-giving. Yes, people abuse it. But when a single human being sets the whole of themselves aside in order to freely love another, magic is set in motion. And it is my prayer that the hope of the love that you have always longed for will never be crushed by those who have crushed you. Rather, may you believe, may you wait, may you hold hope close, and may you be blessed when the love that you thought not to exist unexpectedly seizes your heart, rubs your soul warm, and ignites your life. This is what I wish for you.

Pride in my father, thankfulness that he had been my father, and an ultimately grateful feeling of respect (grudging at first, it took a while to come) for the aching if imperfect love he never ceased to feel for Mom—these are the things I wanted to hold on to. It will soon be seven years since the night I bent down by his bed to press my ear against his chest and listen to his breathing as his life came to its end. But even now, and even after rounding out the story of his sometimes turbulent complexity, as I’ve felt obliged to do in order to keep faith with the reality of who he was, it is the reaffirming memories that crowd out all the rest. The sense that I was on a journey with my father—seventy-two years is a good big piece of anybody’s life—did not end abruptly on the day I buried him. On cold November nights when I’m in a thoughtful mood or worried about problems with my work, or personal missteps I may have made, and go out walking by myself along the country roads around my house, I like to imagine that he’s there beside me still, tapping that old cane of his, making his amusing comments on the unpredictable events and unexpected twists and turns in other people’s lives. Perhaps, over the next few years, that sense of his continuing companionship will fade. It probably will. But some part of the legacy my father and good mother gave me will, I know, remain with me even when their voices and their words and the expressions on their faces and the vivid details of their life’s adventure become attenuated in the course of time. Some of the blessings that our parents give us, I need to believe, outlive the death of memory.

She walked on in this way for several more minutes and at last came to a place in the labyrinth close to the circumference of the circle where the path unexpectedly turns sharply to the right. As you turn, you discover that you have reached the end of the path and a few more steps will take you to the center of the circle. Turning to the right, Glory suddenly felt the pinecone in her hands move as if it had become her own living heart. Deeply shaken, she looked up for the first time and found an unmistakable Presence in the center of the labyrinth, waiting for her. For just the briefest moment she could see Him quite clearly. His heart was open, a place of refuge for all who suffer. It had been broken open by the suffering in the world in the same way hers had been. Suddenly she understood why others had come to her for refuge since her childhood. The suffering she was able to feel had made her trustworthy. She stumbled the last few steps into the center of the labyrinth, knelt down, and for the first time since she was a child, she wept. In a talk about compassion, a former teacher of mine once said that practice prepares the mind, but suffering prepares the heart. Perhaps the final step in the healing of all wounds is the discovery of the capacity for compassion, an intuitive knowing that no one is singled out in their suffering, that all living beings are vulnerable to loss, attachment, and limitation. It is only in the presence of compassion that we can show our wounds without diminishing our wholeness. The Dalai Lama has said that “compassion occurs only between equals.” For those who have compassion, woundedness is not a place of judgment but a place of genuine meeting.

Jesus goes while blessing, and he remains in that gesture of blessing. His hands remained stretched out over this world. The blessing hands of Christ are like a roof that protects us. . . . In faith we know that Jesus holds his hands stretched out in blessing over us. That is the lasting motive of Christian joy.[3] The blessing hands of Christ are over us. Whenever we look up at the sky, we can imagine the ascending Christ with his arms outstretched. Wherever we go, we go under the sky above us, so wherever we go, we go under the blessing protection and the blessing mission of the Lord Jesus. As Benedict wrote elsewhere of the disciples, “They knew that they were forever blessed and stood under blessing hands wherever they went.”[4] The implications for daily life are stirring. How hard are circumstances pressing you? Can you yet look up and see sky? That sky represents the blessing hands of Jesus keeping you even through these days. Have your powers been curtailed by illness or age? Can you at least still imagine sky? Let it remind you of the one who claims you and loves you. He went up to heaven still in the body. He is still wedded to our humanity. He has promised that he will transform our lowly bodies to be like his glorious body (Philippians 3:21)—we too will live in rippling, embodied resurrection life. How hopeless does the future of the world seem? How far does the arm of evil reach? Look at the sky and remember Jesus’ blessing hands. Evil cannot ever go where Christ is and pull him down into our mire. Nor can it ever prevent his return to set all things right. He is still over us like the sky, his blessing hands like a great shell of protection all of our days on this earth.

In Romans 12:4-8, Paul writes about gifts: “For as we have many members in one body, but all the members do not have the same function, so we, being many, are one body in Christ, and individually members of one another. Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, let us prophesy in proportion to our faith; or ministry, let us use it in our ministering; he who teaches, in teaching; he who exhorts, in exhortation; he who gives, with liberality; he who leads, with diligence; he who shows mercy, with cheerfulness.” “Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, let us use them.” Recognize that the gifts inside you are not only for you; just as the gifts inside other people around you are not only for them. We are meant to help each other. God designed us this way on purpose! All being members of one body, our successes are shared — there is no need to be threatened by another person’s gift. Use your gifts, and encourage the people in your life to use their gifts as well. You will be blessed as a result! Unfortunately, one thing that keeps us from asking for help or taking advantage of the talents in people around us is pride. Never allow pride to keep you from asking for counsel when it is needed! 1 Corinthians 12:20 is another passage about gifts: “now indeed there are many members, yet one body. And the eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you’; nor again the head to the feet, ‘I have no need of you.’ ” We need each other, and joining our gifts together will result in a much stronger body. If you have time, read 1 Corinthians 12:4-20. Reflect on how there can be unity in the diversity of gifts if we use our different gifts properly. Determine that you will not be threatened by anyone else’s gifts! Esther was not afraid of the gifts in the people around her. Let’s see how she responds to the wisdom of others today. And every day Mordecai paced in front of the court of the women’s quarters, to learn of Esther’s welfare and what was happening to her. Esther 2:11 Every day, Mordecai goes to the palace gates to inquire after Esther and learn of what was happening to her. He goes to the palace gates with purpose. He paces in front of the women’s court until he has learns the day’s news about Esther. Even though she is no longer under his roof, he stills feels a strong responsibility toward her, and acts accordingly. He is a faithful man, and has set a great example before Esther. The news that he hears concerning Esther daily must be good: her inward beauty and submission to authority are two of the many wonderful traits that God placed in her so that she will be effective in Persia. Even though Esther is in an unfamiliar place and experiencing “firsts” every day in the palace, God is making sure she has what she needs. Esther did not need to feel nervous! She needed wise counsel; it has been provided for her in Mordecai and Hegai. She needs a pleasant and patient personality; that has been being developed in her by the Lord for many years. In your own life, you are constantly undergoing change and growth as you are submitting to the Lord. Whether or not you can see it, God is continually preparing you for what lies ahead so that you will have what you need when you need it. The God who loves you so much knows your future, and He is preparing you today for what you will experience tomorrow. Esther is receiving what she needs as well. She is in the palace undergoing her beauty preparations — a twelve month process! Even through this extended period of time, Mordecai is still at the palace gates every day (the Bible does not say that he stopped his concern for her at any point). It is an entire

It was the entirely unexpected and sorely welcomed song of a single robin in the waking hours of a new morning that reminded me that this day will not be what I make it. Rather, it will be what I permit God to bring into it. And so my prayer is that my days will always be filled with robins.

Holy is the dish and drain The soap and sink, and the cup and plate And the warm wool socks, and cold white tile Showerheads and good dry towels And frying eggs sound like psalms With a bit of salt measured in my palm It’s all a part of a sacrament As holy as a day is spent Holy is the busy street And cars that boom with passion’s beat And the check out girl, counting change And the hands that shook my hands today And hymns of geese fly overhead And stretch their wings like their parents did Blessed be the dog, that runs in her sleep To catch that wild and elusive thing Holy is the familiar room And the quiet moments in the afternoon And folding sheets like folding hands To pray as only laundry can I’m letting go of all I fear Like autumn leaves of earth and air For summer came and summer went As holy as a day is spent Holy is the place I stand To give whatever small good I can And the empty page, and the open book Redemption everywhere I look Unknowingly we slow our pace In the shade of unexpected grace And with grateful smiles and sad lament As holy as a day is spent And morning light sings “Providence” As holy as a day is spent

He leaned against the wall and folded his hands, quietly rejoicing in unexpected blessings—the company of a friend, a new purpose, pure water. Even knowing the date of his death was a blessing, for it would bring an end to his pain. To everything, there was a season . . .

A PRAYER FOR THE EASTERN CAPE YOUNG PEOPLE SOUTH AFRICA Father God I come before your throne of grace with a heavy heart at this time of great sadness of young lives who are snatched by the evil powers. Right now I ask you Lord Jesus to give peace, strength and comfort to the parents and relatives who are mourning this death that was so sudden and unexpected in the mighty name of Jesus. Shower the assurance of your love, peace grace and kindness in the time of great sadness and help us to be there for each other in Jesus name. Lord we ask for your divine intervention and your divine protection in the mighty name of Jesus. We break every curse and evil agenda of the enemy that is meant to destroy the future of this province and the the entire nation of South Africa and we come against every single negative word that was said to harm our children and our grandchildren in Jesus name. We destroy every evil arrow that is sent to kill our young people and we send it back to the pit of hell where it belongs in mighty name of Jesus. Father God you are the God of justice,meet every need, reveal the real cause of this devastating situation and bring justice to light in the mighty name of Jesus. Heavenly Father we speak life, protection, wisdom and the blessings of the Lord over the entire youth of South Africa. Father rule and reign in our lives and in our land in Jesus name. Thank you King Jesus for your faithfulness. Amen.

Today I wish to remind you once again that your entire existence is too special, miraculous & purposeful to be living a life that holds no meaning for you. Darling listen – you possess the strength & potential to achieve extraordinary things. God has instilled within you the power to fulfill your life mission & purpose. Giants may stand in your path, but you have the power to overcome them. Dreams that seem impossible right now will become within your reach. Believe me. Sweetheart, your job is to keep doing your best everyday…& when you discover better, allowing it to guide your next steps. Remember those moments when an inner voice whispers, “There. That’s it. That’s why you’re here”, igniting a warm glow within.. I am asking you to focus on doing these activities more & more.. Embrace the magnetic state & attract what is meant for you.. I wish & hope that the remaining days of the year will deliver your expected blessings in unexpected & unpredictable ways..

Sometimes unexpected things happen to us and we think we are cursed or that we’ve done something wrong in life. Only to discover that what had happened to us Was a blessing in disguise?

The Almighty has blessed each and everyone of us with unique talents and abilities. Never underestimate the power of these blessings. Use them wisely, use them well. Use them to spread goodness wherever you go. Whatever good you do will come back to you in unexpected ways!

The Americans didn’t know it yet, however, but that win over Colombia was serendipitous in an unexpected way. Yellow cards given to both Lauren Holiday (née Cheney) and Megan Rapinoe meant that Jill Ellis would be forced to change her tactics. The team was about to fix all of its midfield problems. A blessing in disguise was about to save the USA’s World Cup. It was about to unleash Carli Lloyd. Up to that point in the tournament, Lloyd had been asked to play alongside Lauren Holiday in an ill-defined central midfield partnership. Neither one of them was a defensive midfielder, and neither one of them was an attacking midfielder. They were expected to split those duties between them on the fly. That not only led to gaping holes and poor positioning in the midfield, but it restrained Lloyd, who throughout her career was best as a pure attacking player who could push forward without restraint.

Our almighty God has gifted us more than five senses. Apart from the obvious five that we know of, there is an extra gut and third eye.The gut being a collection of unexpected feelings and emotions, while the third eye brings forth our inner/natural intution. Ask God to grant you the serenity of a shielding intution and open the third eye.You will be amazed of how and what you see in people. Additionally you will view the world differently. Such expirience and gift will enlighten your spirit in such a way that you will glorify the lord our God for his powerful blessings that he has bestowed upon you.

Your mother will die some day, and you and I will have to die some day, too. Yet My God has never died. Perhaps you haven’t heard clearly the story that tells how He goes on living for ever and ever. In appearance only did He die. But three days after He had died He came to life again and with great pomp He rose up to heaven.” “How often?” the chief asked in a dry tone. Astonished at this unexpected question, the monk answered, “Why . . . why . . . eh . . . once only, quite naturally once only.” “Once only? And has he, your great god, ever returned to earth?” “No, of course not,” Padre Balmojado answered, his voice burdened with irritation. “He has not returned yet, but He has promised mankind that He will return to earth in His own good time, so as to judge and to . . .” “. . . and to condemn poor mankind,” the chief finished the sentence. “Yes, and to condemn!” the monk said in a loud and threatening tone. Confronted with such inhuman stubbornness he lost control of himself. Louder still he continued: “Yes, to judge and to condemn all those who deny Him and refuse to believe in Him, and who criticize His sacred words, and who ignore Him, and who maliciously refuse to accept the true and only God even if He is brought to them with brotherly love and a heart overflowing with compassion for the poor ignorant brethren living in sin and utter darkness, and who can obtain salvation for nothing more than having belief in Him and having the true faith.” Not in the least was the chieftain affected by this sudden outburst of the monk, who had been thrown off routine by these true sons of America who had learned to think long and carefully before speaking. The chieftain remained very calm and serene. With a quiet, soft voice he said: “Here, my holy white father, is what our god had put into our hearts and souls, and it will be the last word I have to say to you before we return to our beautiful and tranquil tierra: Our god dies every evening for us who are his children. He dies every evening to bring us cool winds and freshness of nature, to bring us peace and quiet for the night so that we may rest well, man and animal. Our god dies every evening in a deep golden glory, not insulted, not spat upon, not spattered with stinking mud. He dies beautifully and glori¬ously, as every real god will die. Yet he does not die forever. In the morning he returns to life, refreshed and more beautiful than ever, his body still trailing the veils and wrappings of the dead. But soon his golden spears dart across the blue firmament as a sign that he is ready to fight the gods of darkness who threaten the peoples on earth. And before you have time to realize what happens, there he stands before wondering human eyes, and there he stays, great, mighty, powerful, golden, and in ever-growing beauty, dominating the universe. “He, our god, is a spendthrift in light, warmth, beauty, and fertility, enriching the flowers with perfumes and colors, teaching the birds to sing, filling the corn with strength and health, playing with the clouds in an ocean of gold and blue. As my beloved mother does, so does he give and give and never cease giving; never does he ask for prayers, not expect¬ing adoration or worship, not commanding obedience or faith, and never, never condemning anybody or thing on earth. And when evening comes, again he passes away in beauty and glory, a smile all over his face, and with his last glimmer blesses his Indian children. Again the next morning he is the eternal giver; he is the eternally young, the eternally beautiful, the eternally new-born, the ever and ever returning great and golden god of the Indians. “And this is what our god has put into our hearts and souls and what I am bound to tell you, holy white father: ‘Do not, not ever, beloved Indian sons of these your beautiful lands, give away your own great god for any other god.’ ” ("Conversion Of Some Indians")

Other Books written by Daniel Schinhofen: Binding Words: Morrigan's Bidding Life Bonds Hearthglen Forged Bonds Flame of War Aether’s Revival: Aether's Blessing Aether's Guard Luck’s Voice: Suited for Luck Cashing In Apocalypse Gates Author’s Cut: Rapture Valley of Death Gearing Up Elven Accord Downtime and Death Can of Worms Unexpected Dev-elopments Alpha World: (Completed.) Gamer for Life Forming the Company Alpha Company Playing for Keeps Fractured Spirit The Path to Peace Darkhand Gamer For Love Last Horizon: (Completed.) Last Horizon Omnibus NPC’s Lives: (Hiatus) Tales from the Dead Man Inn Resurrection Quest: (Hiatus) Greenways Goblins

Keep yourself open to unexpected blessings, dear.

Life must be lived forward but can only be understood backward", he began. "That's a curious irony and a grievous impediment. We set off for one point and soon find ourselves at some other. And yet, the art of life might be to accept the course that God charts for us, a course that is rarely the most direct route from point to point. But a zigzagging, even circuitous, path where were are confronted with many unexpected trials...and unexpected blessings. Where we learn, like the experienced sailor, to use the wind when we are able and to prevail through rough weather without giving up our hope and faith of arriving some day at our destination. But accepting the course God has set for us. Accepting that God may have a better destination in mind than we had ever hoped for...

The struggle means your wings are growing and being strengthened. Have faith. There are angels watching over you.

When we are caught up in the busyness of our lives, we forget our true role in this life. When we are wrapped up in worrying about the future or are stressed about something we did in the past, we do not feel God’s peace. But if we can simply stop and be in the now, we can remember Him. In remembering Him we come to a point of stillness and surrender. And it is in our stillness that God comes in. It is in the silence that we hear the whisper of His voice.

If you don’t trust anything or anyone in life, trust that the things you leave behind allow you to make room for the unexpected. Because with enough faith, courage, hope, and love; and the awareness of every blessing we’ve been given, and feeling gratitude for every gift we’ve been granted, the unexpected paths we end up taking, often end up feeling like the place we are exactly meant to be.

If we have to be perfect before we can know ourselves blessed, we will never ask for the transfiguring power of God’s love, because of course we are unworthy. But we don’t have to be worthy, we just have to acknowledge our need, to cry out, “Help me!” God will help us, even if it’s in an unexpected and shocking way, by swooping down on us to wrestle with us. And in the midst of the wrestling we, too, will be able to cry out, “Bless me!

Beautiful blessings come at the most unexpected hours.

Unexpected blessings are God’s way of demonstrating His love for you. He commands us to bear each other’s burdens. We’re told to encourage one another and build each other up.

For some years I have recognised that the love of reading has been one of the unexpected blessings in my life. Reading has defined my life and become a habit that is woven seamlessly into the way I think, feel and imagine.

It may have been only for a moment, it probably was; but I do know the silence was not broken till the aged minister, who stood at the head of the coffin, began his discourse. We stood with uncovered heads during the service, and when the old minister addressed us he spoke as though he might have been holding family worship and we had been his children. He invoked Heaven to comfort and sustain the mother when the news of her son's death reached her, as she would need more than human aid in that hour; he prayed that her faith might not falter and that she might again meet and be with her loved ones forever in the great beyond. He then took up the subject of life,—spoke of its brevity, its many hopes that are never realized, and the disappointments from which no prudence or foresight can shield us. He dwelt at some length on the strange mingling of sunshine and shadow that seemed to belong to every life; on the mystery everywhere, and nowhere more impressively than in ourselves. With his long bony finger he pointed to the cold, mute form that lay in the coffin before us, and said, "But this, my friends, is the mystery of all mysteries." The fact that life terminated in death, he said, only emphasized its reality; that the death of our companion was not an accident, though it was sudden and unexpected; that the difficulties of life are such that it would be worse than folly in us to try to meet them in our own strength. Death, he said, might change, but it did not destroy; that the soul still lived and would live forever; that death was simply the gateway out of time into eternity; and if we were to realize the high aim of our being, we could do so by casting our burdens on Him who was able and willing to carry them for us. He spoke feelingly of the Great Teacher, the lowly Nazarene, who also suffered and died, and he concluded with an eloquent description of the blessed life, the immortality of the soul, and the resurrection of the body. After the discourse was ended and a brief and earnest prayer was covered, the two young girls sang the hymn, "Shall we meet beyond the river?" The services being at an end, the coffin was lowered into the grave.

How often I take for granted the astounding news that God loves me with a callous, “Yeah, yeah, he loves me, now what about God giving me what I want for myself right now?” I can fly right over the stunning surprise of this news. God created me and God loves me. Personally, individually, deeply, eternally, passionately.

Why does it seem like there’s something the matter with everything? Because there is something wrong with everything!”[2]

Christ came to redeem us from under the laws of frail, fickle human love on which no one can depend,

Now the LORD I AM, Yahweh, The one true God, who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit, The LORD bless you and keep you; The LORD make his face to shine upon you, And be gracious unto you. The LORD lift up his countenance upon you, And give you peace, now and always. I conclude with an invitation: “And let God’s people reply . . . ” Then they answer heartily, “Blessed be the LORD I AM, who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.