Jesus Loves Me Senior Version

Subject:  Jesus Loves Me senior version

 Many years ago, while watching a little TV on Sunday instead of going
> >> to church, I watched a Church in Atlanta honoring one of it's senior
> >> pastors who had been retired many years...
> >>
> >> He was 92 at that time and I wondered why the Church even bothered to
> >> ask the old gentleman to preach at that age. After a warm welcome,
> >> introduction of this speaker, and as the applause quieted down he rose
> >> from his high back chair and walked slowly, with great effort and a
> >> sliding gate to the podium. Without a note or written paper of any kind,
> >> he placed both hands on the pulpit to steady himself and then quietly and
> >> slowly he began to speak...
> >>
> >> "When I was asked to come here today and talk to you, your pastor
> >> asked me to tell you what was the greatest lesson ever learned in my 50
> >> odd years of preaching. I thought about it for a few days and boil ed it
> >> down to just one thing that made the most difference in my life and
> >> sustained me through all my trials. The one thing that I could always
> >> rely on when tears and heart break and pain and fear and sorrow paralyzed
> >> me...the only thing that would comfort was this verse..........
> >>
> >> "Jesus loves me this I know.
> >> For the Bible tells me so.
> >> Little ones to him belong,
> >> We are weak but he is strong.....
> >> Yes, Jesus loves me...
> >> The Bible tells me so."
> >>
> >> When he finished, the church was quiet.
> >>
> >> You actually could hear his foot steps as he shuffled back to his
> >> chair. I don't believe I will ever forget it.
> >>
> >> A pastor once stated, "I always noticed that its was the adults who
> >> chose the children's hymn 'Jesus Loves Me' (for the children of course)
> >> during a hymn sing, and it was the adults who sang the loudest because I
> >> could see they knew it the best."
> >>
> >> Senior version of Jesus Loves Me
> >> Here is a new version just for us who have white hair, or no hair at
> >> all. For us over middle age (or even those almost there) and all you
> >> others, check out this newest version of "Jesus Loves Me". It is quite
> >> cute, so read, sing and enjoy:"
> >>
> >>
> >> JESUS LOVES ME
> >>
> >> Jesus loves me, this I know,
> >> Though my hair is white as snow.
> >> Though my sight is growing dim,
> >> Still He bids me trust in Him.
> >>
> >> (CHORUS)
> >>
> >> YES, JESUS LOVES ME... YES, JESUS LOVES ME...
> >> YES, JESUS LOVES ME FOR THE BIBLE TELLS ME SO.
> >>
> >> Though my steps are oh, so slow,
> >> With my hand in His I'll go
> >> On through life, let come what may,
> >> He'll be there to lead the way.
> >>
> >> (CHORUS)
> >>
> >> T though I am no longer young,
> >> I have much which He's begun.
> >> Let me serve Christ with a smile,
> >> Go with others the extra mile.
> >>
> >>
> >> (CHORUS)
> >>
> >> When the nights are dark and long,
> >> In my heart He puts a song.
> >> Telling me in words so clear,
> >> "Have no fear, for I am near"
> >>
> >> (CHORUS)
> >>
> >> When my work on earth is done,
> >> And life's victories have been won.
> >> He will take me home above,
> >> Then I'll understand His love
> >>
> >> (CHORUS)
> >>
> >> I love Jesus, does He know?
> >> Have I ever told Him so?
> >> Jesus loves to hear me say,
> >> That I love Him every day.
> >>

 

Thoughts of a Mom

Thoughts of a Mom

By Maureen K. Higgins

Many of you I have never even met face to face, but I've searched you out every day.
I've looked for you on the Internet, on playgrounds and in grocery stores.
I've become an expert at identifying you.
You are well worn.
You are stronger than you ever wanted to be.
Your words ring experience.
Experience you culled with your very heart and soul.
You are compassionate beyond the expectations of this world.
You are my "sisters."

Yes, you and I, my friend, are sisters in a sorority, a very elite sorority.
We are special.
Just like any other sorority, we were chosen to be members.
Some of us were invited to join immediately.
Some not for months or even years.
Some of us even tried to refuse membership, but to no avail.

We were initiated in neurologist's offices and NICU units, in obstetrician's offices,
In emergency rooms, in hospital rooms and during ultrasounds.
We were initiated with somber telephone calls, consultations, evaluations, blood tests, X-rays, MRI films, and heart surgeries.

All of us have one thing in common.

One day things were fine.
We were pregnant, or we had just given birth, or we were nursing our newborn.
We were playing with our toddler.
Yes, one minute everything was fine.
Then, whether it happened in an instant, as it often does,
Or over the course of a few weeks or months, our entire lives changed.
Something wasn't quite right.
Then we found ourselves mothers of children with special needs.

We are united, we sisters,
regardless of the diversity of our children's special needs.
Some of our children undergo chemotherapy.
Some need respirators and ventilators.
Some are unable to talk, some are unable to walk.
Some live in a different world.


We do not discriminate against those mothers whose children's needs are not
As "special" as our child's.
We have mutual respect and empathy for all the women who walk in our shoes.

We are knowledgeable.
We have educated ourselves with whatever materials we could find.
We know "the" specialists in the field.
We know "the" neurologists, "the" hospitals, "the" wonder drugs, "the" treatments.
We know "the" tests that need to be done,
We know "the" degenerative and progressive diseases
And we hold our breath while our children are tested for them.
Without formal education, we could become board certified in
neurology, endocrinology, and psychiatry.

We have taken on our insurance companies to get what our children need to survive,
and to flourish.
We have prevailed upon the State to include augmentative
communication devices in special education classes
And mainstream schools for our children with cerebral palsy.
We have labored to prove to insurance companies the medical necessity of gait trainers
And other adaptive equipment for our children with spinal cord defects.
We have sued municipalities to have our children properly classified
So they could receive education and evaluation commensurate with their diagnosis.

We have learned to deal with the rest of the world,
Even if that means walking away from it.

We have tolerated scorn in supermarkets during "tantrums"
And gritted our teeth while discipline was advocated by the person
behind us on line.

We have tolerated inane suggestions and home remedies from well-
meaning strangers.

We have tolerated mothers of children without special needs,
Complaining about chicken pox and ear infections.

We have learned that many of our closest friends can't understand
what it's like
To be in our sorority,
And don't even want to try.

We have our own personal copies of Emily Perl Kingsley's "A Trip To Holland"
and Erma Bombeck's "The Special Mother."
We keep them by our bedside and read and reread them during our toughest hours.

We have coped with holidays.
We have found ways to get our physically handicapped children to the
neighbors' front doors on Halloween,
And we have found ways to help our deaf children form the words, "trick or treat."
We have accepted that our children with sensory dysfunction
Will never wear velvet or lace on Christmas.
We have painted a canvas of lights and a blazing Yule log with our
words for our blind children.
We have bought white chocolate bunnies for Easter.
And all the while, we have tried to create a festive atmosphere for the rest of our family.

We've gotten up every morning since our journey began wondering how
we'd make it through another day,
And gone to bed every evening not sure how we did it.

We've mourned the fact that we never got to relax and sip red wine in Italy.
We've mourned the fact that our trip to Holland has required much more
Baggage than we ever imagined when we first visited the travel agent.
And we've mourned because we left for the airport
Without most of the things we needed for the trip.

But we, sisters, we keep the faith always.
We never stop believing.
Our love for our special children and our belief in all that they
will achieve in life knows no bounds.
We dream of them scoring touchdowns and extra points and home runs.
We visualize them running sprints and marathons.
We dream of them planting vegetable seeds, riding horses and chopping down trees.
We hear their angelic voices singing Christmas carols.
We see their palettes smeared with watercolors,
And their fingers flying over ivory keys in a concert hall.
We are amazed at the grace of their pirouettes.
We never, ever stop believing in all they will accomplish
As they pass through this world.

But in the meantime, my sisters, the most important thing we do, is
hold tight to their little hands, as together,
We special mothers and our special children,
Reach for the stars.