Remarkable Part of ‘Dibs, in search of self’ by Virginia Axline

“Do you know other grown-ups?”

“Of course I do. There is Hedda, our maid. And there is Jake, our gardener. And there is Millie who does our laundry. The tree outside my window grew close enough for me to reach out and touch it. But Papa told Jake to trim it. He said it rubbed against the house. But I told Jake the tree was my friend and that branch I needed. And Jake didn’t cut it off. And then Papa went out and said he wanted it off because it was too close to the house. Jake said, I liked the branch, because I could reach out my window and touch it. Then Papa said he didn’t want me hanging out the window and he would put a safety screen on the window. Then he told Jake to cut off the branch and be quick about it. Papa said I had plenty of other things to play with. He made Jake saw it off far away from the window but Jake saved me the tip end of the branch that I used to touch. And he gave it to me. He told me it was an old elm tree, probably two hundred years old, and in all that time, probably no one ever loved it as much as I did.”

photo credit: www.workhappynow.com 

“That was really very nice. I was in God’s house today for the very first and only time. Tell me, why do some people believe in God and some not believe?”

“I think everyone makes up his own mind for himself.”

"I wonder what God is like. Grandmother told me, God is our Father in heaven. I wouldn’t like God to be like (my) Papa. Because sometimes, I don’t think like Papa loves me. Grandmother says that Papa does love me. But if he does why don’t I know it? Grandmother loves me and I love her, and I know because I feel it deep inside of me. It’s hard to figure things like this out. It makes me feel lonesome not knowing God.”

Why do some people don’t believe that God exists?

I really want to understand where they were coming from. I want to know why they chose to believe their so called world’s reasoning, when in reality even the world declares how wonderfully it was created. Created. That simply means that someone is responsible for its existence.

I have known some of those unbelievers, and when I tried to ask them why they don’t believe in God, all they do is contradict the proofs and evidences of God’s existence. They only contradict, but they can’t prove their stand.

I am not looking for any arguments; I am just stating the fact based on my experience. I am not disrespecting the beliefs of others; I just want a clear answer from them.  I wonder why they fail to see how God loves them so much. That even they refuse to believe Him, God spare their lives and still giving them a chance to know Him. But time is running, and as long as it runs, everything will come to something like “too late.” Because we all know that our time here on Earth is never permanent and as time is running, we are nearing to our end.

Photo credit: Ronald Santiago

I am not asking you to believe me and everything I wrote here in this blog, what I am saying is that look around you. Look at the sky above, look at the waves of the sea, look at the thunder and the rain, and look at the mountains. No matter how science explains these things, don’t you wonder how they really begin existing? Go on, dig deeper. Research more. And believe me, it will only lead you to proving that someone started it all. Someone great and Someone powerful. Someone greater than any of us.

And before I end this blog, may you accept my apology for posting this topic that can cause war. I just think it’s right for someone to stand upon the truth. And when you experience something real, isn’t it natural to speak up and share how the feelings capture your whole being.

Papa didn't say 'Oh'

This story struck through my heart, I felt the pain of that little girl; not the pain on her finger but the pain in her heart. :l

From Our Daily Bread

(October 18, 2013)

Wriiten by: David Roper

I have a friend who was working in his home office one evening, trying to get some necessary paper work done. His little girl, who was about 4 years old at that time, was playing around his desk, puttering about, moving objects here and there, pulling out drawers, and making a good deal of noise.

photo credit: http://weheartit.com/entry/20385342

My friend endured the distraction with stoic patience until the child slammed a drawer on one of her fingers and screamed in pain. Reacting in exasperation he shouted, “That’s it!” as he escorted her out of the room and shut the door.

Later, her mother found her weeping in the bedroom and tried to comfort her, “Does your finger still hurt?” she asked. “No,” the little girl sniffled, “Then why are you crying?” her mother asked. “Cause,” she whimpered, “when I pinched my finge, Papa, didn’t say ‘Oh!’”