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| Photo Credit: clarita from morgueFile.com |
As we recovered from the three-day weekend tease, we
jumped right back into the hustle-bustle routine we barely started. Sound
familiar? So, when thinking about what
to share this week, I went with the gift of time.
As a parent, we do a lot of chauffeuring during the
school year, don’t we? Many kids are involved in after-school
activities…whether it be a sport, karate, band, gymnastics, art lessons, music
lessons, dance, cheerleading, or learning a foreign language. Folks are on the road for a big chunk of
their day shuffling kids here and there.
Somehow time flies by so quickly between all the driving, whether we
like it or not.
This week, I want to make an extra effort to value
this precious gift of time. Plus, I want to share a story that made me
laugh from Mikey’s Funnies. It’s obvious that in our rushing around, maybe
we aren’t even taking the time to say, “I love you.” Here goes:
In a morning Bible study, a group of
women were studying how to live in a loving relationship with their husbands. The women
were asked, "How many of you love your husband?" All the women raised their hands. Then they were asked, "When was the last
time you told your husband you loved him?"
A few women answered today, some said yesterday, and some didn't
remember when.
The women were then asked to take their phones and send the text message, "I love you, sweetheart." After a few minutes, the women were asked to exchange phones and read aloud the responding text messages.
Here are some of the replies:
1. Who is this?
2. Uh, mother of my children, are you sick?
3. I love you too.
4. Did you wreck the car again?
5. I don't understand what you mean.
6. What did you do now?
7. ?!!???
8. Don't beat around the bush, just tell me how much you need.
9. Am I dreaming?
10. If you don't tell me who this message is actually for, somebody’s gonna get hurt.
11. I thought we agreed we wouldn’t drink during the day.
12. Your mother is coming to stay, isn't she?
The women were then asked to take their phones and send the text message, "I love you, sweetheart." After a few minutes, the women were asked to exchange phones and read aloud the responding text messages.
Here are some of the replies:
1. Who is this?
2. Uh, mother of my children, are you sick?
3. I love you too.
4. Did you wreck the car again?
5. I don't understand what you mean.
6. What did you do now?
7. ?!!???
8. Don't beat around the bush, just tell me how much you need.
9. Am I dreaming?
10. If you don't tell me who this message is actually for, somebody’s gonna get hurt.
11. I thought we agreed we wouldn’t drink during the day.
12. Your mother is coming to stay, isn't she?
Silly stuff, but all joking aside, let’s remember to
say those important words this week. Take some time.
Another story that caught my eye has been around a
time or two, but it deserves another read. My dad even mentioned that he
enjoyed it and it takes an extremely special story to capture his emotions. So, if you’ll take some time, I don’t think
you’ll be disappointed.
It had been many years since Jack
had seen the old man. College,
girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country
in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the
rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often
no time to spend with his wife and son. He
was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.
Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days. "Jack, did you hear me?" she asked. "Oh sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said. "Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him. "I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.
"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said. "He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important... Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.
As busy as Jack was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.
The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time. Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension - a leap through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture... Jack stopped suddenly.
"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked. ”The box is gone," he said. "What box?" Mom asked. "There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it. "Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read.
Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser," it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.
"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, with tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.
Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, thanks for your time! - Harold Belser."
"The thing he valued most...was...my time. My time."
Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked. "I need some time to spend with my son," he said. "Oh, by the way, Janet... thanks for your time!" ~ Author Unknown ~
Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days. "Jack, did you hear me?" she asked. "Oh sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said. "Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him. "I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.
"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said. "He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important... Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.
As busy as Jack was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.
The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time. Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension - a leap through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture... Jack stopped suddenly.
"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked. ”The box is gone," he said. "What box?" Mom asked. "There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it. "Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read.
Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser," it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.
"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, with tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.
Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, thanks for your time! - Harold Belser."
"The thing he valued most...was...my time. My time."
Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked. "I need some time to spend with my son," he said. "Oh, by the way, Janet... thanks for your time!" ~ Author Unknown ~
So, after all was said and done, TIME was what
mattered most. Everyone is blessed in different ways. Some have a great deal of treasure. Others have tremendous talent. Many have both. But, we are ALL given the exact same number
of hours in a day. How will we use the
brand-new set of 24 we’ve been given today?
Made me both laugh (guess which part) and cry........TIME.....definitely a precious commodity......
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