In Your presence

"In Your presence is fullness of joy!"  The Psalmist has discovered a close relationship to God is a very happy state.

It depends on your concept of God, of course.  If we accept Jesus' God of Love and goodness, that presence give peace as well as vibrancy and joy. 

I discovered that this evening when my grandsons were wound up after dinner.  They were laughing and rough-housing in the living room while I cleaned up in the kitchen.  I sighed.  This could go on for hours -- if past experience set any precedence.  

On the other hand, I pray before I come to spend after-school time with these boys.  Today my prayers were to see more of everyone's Christly nature, that harmony and cooperation that is so natural to all of us.  

Two amazing things happened.  The first was that after school they both got right to their homework without the usual moaning and groaning.

The second was that suddenly, in the middle of the after-dinner rough-housing, there was silence.  The younger boy sat down at the computer and engaged himself in a football game.  The older boy, with a reading assignment, sat down on the couch with his book.   I had brought some paperwork and marveled, as one hour passed another, at the deep peacefulness of the evening.

Every now and then there was a rustle from the living room.  Finally I peaked around the corner and couldn't help smiling!

It's a good idea while reading to change your position from time to time.

The spirit of Christmas

If you're especially fortunate, there's an event in your life that defines the spirit of Christmas. This story revives every year about this time, and it's one worthy of circulating. Even though it's considerably longer than my usual post, you may agree that you're glad you read it.

Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.

It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted so bad that year for Christmas.

We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible. So after supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.

Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight."

I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what.

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up the big sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy.

When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me."

The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high sideboards on.

When we had exchanged the sideboards Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood---the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?" "

You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked.

The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what? "Yeah," I said, "why?"

"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt." That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him.

We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the little sack?" I asked.

"Shoes. They're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us. It shouldn't have been our concern.

We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"

"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt. Could we come in for a bit?"

Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.

"We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children---sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.

"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said, then he turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring enough in to last for awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up."

I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and, much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks and so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy filled my soul that I'd never known before. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.

I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord himself has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us."

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.

Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.

At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two older brothers and two older sisters were all married and had moved away.

Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, "'May the Lord bless you,' I know for certain that He will."

Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that. But on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. So, Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand."

I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Just then the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children. For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.

God's love is bigger

I'm always glad to be reminded that God's love is so much bigger than human love.  Kind of like the sky out west -- it just goes on and on and on.

 I had the great joy this morning of walking and talking along a scenic path with my cousin.  We like discussing things of the Spirit, bouncing ideas off one another.  I was speaking on behalf of caution in not wanting to offend people, while she took the approach for trusting your relationship to God enough to do your highest sense of right boldly.

Part of the conversation touched on a diverse group of women she'd been part of for some months in a prior job.  They were department heads who worked together to keep their departments coordinated.

Kim was searching to understand why the group had communicated so well together.  Then she had it.  "First there was a lot of joy.  That was important.  Then there was forgiveness.  Sometimes we tromped on one anther's toes.  Forgive, forgive, forgive.  That's what made it work."

Conclusion: If God is your boss, trust that relationship.  Make decisions on the basis of that relationship, with a deep  desire to bless.  Keep your joy, and add a generous dose of quick forgiveness of honest mistakes.  As big as a western sky.

A Colorado sky

Finding the child heart

Kite flying - pure joy!
This little girl takes advantage
of a windy day at a nearby park.

"Life goes on.” That was the title of a great family TV show two or three decades ago. Life does go on, and times are too adventurous to be left behind.

Smart young people, in my book, are those who, while embracing new ideas, have also learned to value the generations on whose shoulders they are standing.

Smart senior citizens, in my book, are those who increase their circle of friends to keep including young people. Otherwise, how common that sad lament, “All my friends are dying.” Why would anyone limit their circle of friends only to those the world categorizes as “old”?

Because it’s comfortable? Because young people bring new ideas that require some mental wrestling? Because we don’t have to stretch mentally when we stick with friends of our own generation?

Youngest grandson came for two nights this past weekend. He had a whole list of activities for us. I harnessed some of that energy to clean old winter leaves and dirt from the garage floor. What a great worker!

He discovered my Xooter scooter, and nothing would do but for me to ride my bike while he propelled himself on that scooter until he was worn out. We decorated a gingerbread Christmas train – yes in May – until the kitchen was a mess of sticky frosting ambushes.

Amazing Gingerbread Train

Friends come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages. It’s OK to push outside our comfort zones and to value those younger, older, and from cultures different from our own. In fact, life requires it.

Everyone has some spark of the divine. As we seek that spark in our “new” friends, as well as our established friendships, life becomes the spiritual adventure it is intended to be. That doesn’t mean danger and excitement, so much as exploring new mental and spiritual horizons together.

“Love never loses sight of loveliness. Its halo rests upon its object. One marvels that a friend can never seem less than beautiful.”

Joy of music

Third graders on the risers

The grandsons' spring concert was tonight. The tight and efficient format has evolved over decades.

Each grade, K - 5th, sings three short songs.

This year the music teacher jumped light years ahead. Most of the songs were bouncy. Even the kindergartners used hand motions. Each grade addded appropriate dance, rhythm, swing, to their presentations. Everyone went home with singing hearts.

In the words of aTeresa Jennings song from the fifth graders, "Wherever I go in life, whatever I'll be, music will be there for me."

I still remember fun songs I learned in first through fourth grades.

Think about it. Conductors from Japan perform with Chicago and London symphonies - some one hundred musicians playing incredible music with a conductor they have never met before. Conductors from New York make guest appearances in Paris and Sydney - with orchestras they have never conducted before. The notes on the page are a universal language.

Children's choirs travel to various countries. Modern rock and jazz groups play to audiences in countries where they do not speak the native language.

That universal language of music speaks to people's hearts across oceans and generations.

Mary Baker Eddy wrote, "Music is the rhythm of head and heart." I think she's right.

What is your song?

Playing her song

Have you ever thought of your life as the music God has composed for you to play?

So, what’s your song? Music performed by Elvis? Bon Jovi? Marty Stuart? Beethoven?

And what if we find ourselves humming a tune we don’t even like -- or a sad song -- or maybe the same old, tired refrain over and over? What then?

Three thousand years ago, a wise man wrote, “Sing unto the Lord a new song!” He recognized that the world’s songs don’t always fill us with joy and hope. He was ready for something with more substance.

God has given us each wonderful spiritual qualities, and our expression of these qualities is our music, the music God has given us to play.

Everyone’s expression of life should be unique. It may come out as folk music for me, rock and roll for you, country and western for a neighbor, jazz or classical for someone else – and it is all good. Whatever God has given us is excellent. How we play it is our own expression of that excellence.

Our decisions, the thoughts we choose to think, determine how we play our music. How much is stormy, how much is gentle, whether there are lovely duets or trios. How we sing or play – the timing, tempo, dynamics, and nuances – are our contribution to the world.

What about you? Are you ready for a new song? We find our identity, and therefore our special song, by looking to our source. We might call Soul the source of all that is beautiful and spontaneous and pure.

And if we say God, or Soul, is the composer of the music that is our lives, can we say Christ is the conductor? Christ -- that law of God that brings everything together for good and defines our being and purpose --interprets the music God has written. Christ cues individual players to confirm the timing of their entrance, their solo, their melody, or their countermelody. Christ brings everyone together at the right time for greatest blessing.

If we use an orchestra as an example, these musicians can look at their music, count the rests, and come in at exactly the right place. The music indicates how quickly or slowly to play the notes, how loudly or softly, even how to touch each note (legato or staccato). Dynamics, phrasing -- all the refinements the composer intended are written on the page.

In jazz, the musicians are more likely to play from sparse notations and improvise. They are so at one with the melodies and chord progressions that good singers, reed, brass, string, and keyboard players, can close their eyes and improvise marvelous solos.

In any musical group it is important to listen to the other musicians, hear what they are playing, and know when and how they come in, and also when they are silent. Thoughtful listening helps us discern better how our part fits into the whole score, the big picture.

Even so, we are not responsible for what somebody else is playing or not playing. We are responsible for playing our own music the very best we can. And if we are carefully listening, we might be able to help others find their place through the grace in our own lives.

Christ Jesus’ life showed how to play these vibrant life melodies. Scotsman Henry Drummond observed that Jesus spent a lot of his recorded life just going around being kind to people. Simply being kind to them.

Jesus expounded brotherly love in what we call his Sermon on the Mount. Treat others the way you would like to be treated. We can take the initiative in our relationships and be caring first.

Love expressed in kindness -- this is one of the genuine and magnificent pieces of music our lives are to play.

Creative reminder

Location: Will County, southwest of Chicago.

On the corner of 191st and LaGrange Road this morning, drivers honked cheerfully.

A man and woman were working the intersection next to the White Castle. He carried a large sign. She waved at the vehicles. Motorists driving past, honked and waved.

The couple waved back and pointed to those who honked with “Yes!” gestures.

Were they wearing reflective vests? Collecting money for some cause? The usual?

No. That wasn’t it. The sign they carried had a horizontal
M E R R Y, and a vertical C H R I S T M A S.

Somebody exercised their creativity in constructing this reminder, and their good-will in standing on a busy street corner.

It was their counterstatement to the marketing of Christmas, to remember that:

Christ -- God's universal expression of love, peace and goodwill (BTW, not shopping) -- is indeed, as church billboards remind, the Reason for this Season.

Repeating what's really good

Rocks and thawing floods
"repeat the sounding joy"

Joy to the world, the Savior reigns!
Let all, their songs employ;
while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains
repeat the sounding joy
repeat the sounding joy,
repeat, repeat, the sounding joy

This Christmas season brings to mind the traditional carol, “Joy to the World,” which includes this invitation, “Repeat the sounding joy!”

What a great statement of purpose. Yours and mine. To repeat the resounding joy of God and man -- not distant and angry, but in tender and warm relation to one another.

There are, in the course of one’s day, certain things not to be repeated. Here’s the only time the word “repeat” is even used in the King James Bible:

“He that covereth a transgression seeketh love; but he that repeateth a matter separateth very friends.” (Prov 17:9)

or in today’s vernacular:

“One who forgives an affront fosters friendship, (New Revised Standard)
but he who repeats or harps on a matter separates even close friends.” (Amplified)

The wisdom writer understood that dwelling on a dispute separates friends, while forgiveness gives space for friendship to grow.

Other events to not repeat are our own past failures. Mistakes are to learn from, not to hash over. Once we have discovered the needed lesson so that it doesn’t happen again, move on. Life will provide plentiful opportunities to get it right the next time. And the next.

Simple rule of living: repeat whatever is good about God and man. Refuse to repeat (or gossip) disputes, discord, failings. Don’t be the 5 pm local news. Rather be grateful for all the good you can find.

Then you’ll feel the joy your life is repeating.

Gratitude Dance

Gratitude. It's an attitude.

Gratitude recognizes present good.

As the YouTube below shows, gratitude is pretty universal,

The desire to dance for joy is pretty universal.

These folks have chosen to dance their gratitude!

It's always good to set aside a few minutes each day to pause and recognize what's good in our lives. And who, or Who, we can be thanking for it.

It might be a tenderly quiet time of reflection, or a few spontaneous moments of great joy.

Enjoy.

(Just double click on the arrow in the middle of the screen)

Does God have a sense of humor?

Does God have a sense of humor? For sure. How do I know? Because He/She makes me laugh all the time.

For example: driving in Chicago had not been my favorite thing – and, please note, I am putting that in past tense – primarily because city parking has often been a challenge.

I had registered for what promised to be a most interesting program – Hidden Treasures: The voices of women in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam – hosted in downtown Chicago.

So, in my desire to support all things good and womanly, I looked for someone to come along, another set of eyes for locating a parking space. Plenty of interest in the topic, but no takers who were also registered for the event.

I prayed about my reluctance because I was tempted not to go. And the answer that came was Yes, go.

So I just gave it all to God. Something like, “God, since you want me to be part of this gathering tonight, I know you will take me all the way. You would not tell me to go and not provide parking.” I guess this mostly reassured me that I needed to quit grumbling and totally trust that higher power.

My Mapquest route favoring major expressways looked less promising as traffic crawled out of Chicago on the Stevenson – which to my mind should have been uncrowded on a Sunday afternoon.

The idea came to exit on Cermak and take local streets to the church where the event was being held. I had to trust that intuition, because leaving known highways for unknown side streets was pushing me out of my comfort zone.

Exiting the expressway turned out to be an excellent plan. I had to smile while thanking God, who I think of as one infinitely good Mind. When I reached the little residential street where the host church was located, you can imagine my total amazement to see men in orange reflective vests – helping people locate parking spaces on that street!

I was grinning from ear to ear. It was as if the Father (another name for God that’s meaningful to me) was saying, “So, you want help finding parking? Here they are, in bright orange vests!”

“OK, dear Father-Mother, I get it, I’m a believer! Thank you SO much for this sweet gift.”

God's love is expressed in joy and good humor that never puts anyone down, but thoughtfully or spontaneously lets us know God is with us, loving, guiding, rescuing us.

Most excellent fun

Wrestling cats demonstrate headlock

Playing is important. Experts in social behavior believe play in both humans and animals helps the young learn social responses that allow them to grow into thoughtful, balanced, well-adjusted adults.

Play is a happy time of interaction with no purposeful result. At it's best, it is taking part and engaging in spontaneous fun.

I have two cats. Buster has grown in just a year to be considerably bigger than his sister. He soon discovered he could easily overpower Bibs. He would decisively win their tussles, and she would run off and hide. Eventually Buster realized that although he had won the wrestling match, he had lost a playmate.

Over time he has learned to play more gently. They engage in sparring more often, chasing each other through the house. Sometimes he lets Bibs win a little.

Life is about adapting and compromising to achieve more important social goals. This is not timidity that lets another walk all over you. Rather it is self-worth that is so founded on the conviction of a loving Father-Mother good cherishing and maintaining us, that selfishness is quenched by a generous spirit.

The following most amazing video link shows the naturalness of the spirit of play. Having gentle fun for the sake of having gentle fun.

You shouldn't need to click anything after this link. Please be patient while the video loads.

http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/play/audiogallery/soundseen.shtml

Focusing Forward

Each day an adventure!

“Old age begins when someone looks back instead of forward.” (Bob Moos, September 4, Dallas Morning News.)

What a great definition!

Anticipating an event – a camping trip, a NASCAR race, a concert, the arrival of a new baby – boosts our joy quotient. Enthusiasm hums just beneath the surface, propelling us through the intervening hours or days.

Children and dogs awake joyfully each morning expecting new and happy adventures.

Sometimes in one’s life experience, it’s tempting to look back. Maybe a job, a marriage, a move, hasn’t worked out as well as we’d hoped, and we compare the results to some previous experience we remember as having been better. Or perhaps we’ve said or done something mean or cruel or worse, and eventually it niggles at us, demanding resolution.

If the mental review is for the purpose of learning and going forward, the contemplation has served a useful purpose. If, however, we look over our shoulder too long, our whole body turns around and points in that direction. It’s hard to walk forward while facing backwards. Since there’s no purpose in going back unless we can fix something, either go fix it, or stay focused ahead and expectant of good.

Pollyanna? I don’t think so. Our ability to focus forward depends on our view of God, and our relationship to that God. If this Creator is good, all-knowing, all-loving, wise, caring – why not expect good?

We don’t have to become worthy of God’s love. In fact, there's nothing we can do to earn it. Christ Jesus showed by his healing works that man in the likeness of God who is Spirit and Mind, is already worthy of the best of God’s love.

He taught his listeners about a caring Father of all mankind who demands that we not worship other gods – distractions such as sleek bodies, latest fashions, certain foods, money, power, cars, influence. And that this God worship includes fairness and kindness – starting with our fellow man.

When my friend Sam's wife passed away, he said he was tempted to go back – to an empty house, an empty life. But he realized he could, and needed to, decisively make a decision to go forward, to keep his joy. When he was tempted to bemoan the loss of a companion, he found he could choose instead to be grateful for their time together and go forward on the basis of that gratitude. To not be sad it’s over, but to be glad it happened.

He felt close to his God, and found he could lean on that warm friendship built up over the years. Sam just asked God each day, what S/He wanted him to do, that would praise and honor God as Love, God as Truth, God as good.

And so he has been – leaning, asking, doing, with joy. And facing forward.

To those leaning on the sustaining infinite,

to-day is big with blessings.

God is Love.

Can we ask Him to be more?

Mary Baker Eddy

Bloom where you're planted!

What a great concept! This easy-to-digest advice assumes a purpose for each of us. Wherever we are, we have an opportunity to discover that purpose. I believe our universal purpose is pretty simple – to help others feel God’s love. That’s something we can do anywhere.

How do we make those around us more aware of God’s love? My friend, Suzy, taught me one answer through the simplicity of her humanity. One hot Boston afternoon, we stopped in a busy Starbuck’s. She greeted the clerk with a smile and a, “Hi, how’s it going?” The clerk, surprised, smiled back and said, “Today’s OK.” Simple, friendly, caring, unintrusive, Suzy’s kindness bloomed right where she was at that moment. She saw an opportunity to brighten someone’s day a bit, and she did it.

-----------------------------------------------
“Love, redolent* with unselfishness,
bathes all in beauty and light.”
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Cheering those we meet just happens to make us feel good too. Amazing how that works. A flower picked is gone. But joy shared multiplies. We just feel better about ourselves and the world if we have made someone else a little happier.

What if we are feeling too sad to even think about cheering someone else? Here is another amazing fact. Sharing God’s joy begins lifting us out of the sadness. The reason is because the source of the joy isn’t in us, rather it’s outside of ourselves. As we let that source of universal love and caring flow through us to others, it does not leave us unchanged. We’re cheered as well.

Blooming where we are, sharing some comfort or joy right where we happen to be, satisfies our heart's yearning for purpose.

*Note: The word “redolent” means fragrant! So, here's a question: are we more fragrant when we’re being genuinely unselfish?