We hear “God Bless America”
an awful lot these days.
With so many people saying it
why are there delays
in the blessings that we’re seeking?
Why does God ignore
all our efforts to persuade Him?
Could it be we’re asking for
God to bless our efforts
but not get in the way
of all the faithless actions
that continue every day?
When someone wants to get your vote
or just hear you applaud
they flash a semi-sincere smile
and raise their hand to God
to make you think they’re serious.
I always get the feeling
their prideful pleas for plenty
don’t make it past the ceiling.
See, asking for God’s Blessing
in these very trying days
should be coupled with humility
and u-turns from wicked ways.
Check out second Chronicles,
Chapter 7; verse 14
to learn what God requires from us
so blessings can be seen.
Now, bow your head, bend your knee,
and seek His Holy Face.
Then God will Bless America
and show us all His Grace.
Jeff Hildebrandt © 1/11/12
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
The Tip
The cowboy had a point to make
to his pint sized buckaroo
about respecting others
and the hard work that they do.
“When your Uncle Bud was 10,” he said,
“he stopped to get a treat
at the soda fountain counter
in the drug store down the street.
Sandy was the waitress then.
She told the tale to ma
and said it was the sweetest gesture
that she ever saw.
Bud asked her what a sundae cost,
she told him 50 cents.
She saw him count his pocket change
and then his face got tense.
How much for some plain ice cream?
That’s 35, she said.
Bud smiled and asked for chocolate
then for peppermint instead.
He was always partial to peppermint,”
this father told his son
then went on with the lesson
about what Bud had done.
“Bud paid and left then Sandy went
to clear away his bowl.
She told his ma what she saw there
just touched her very soul.
And as she talked the tears began
to roll down Sandy’s face
remembering two nickels
and five pennies by his place.
He could have had a sundae,
but he settled for a dip
He could have thought just of himself
but instead, he left a tip.”
The lesson from that cowboy is
thank folks for what they do
and treat them with the same respect
you feel is due to you.
Doing unto others
should be each cowboy’s creed.
And if it were, we’d all be
better off, indeed.
Jeff Hildebrandt © 11/18/11
to his pint sized buckaroo
about respecting others
and the hard work that they do.
“When your Uncle Bud was 10,” he said,
“he stopped to get a treat
at the soda fountain counter
in the drug store down the street.
Sandy was the waitress then.
She told the tale to ma
and said it was the sweetest gesture
that she ever saw.
Bud asked her what a sundae cost,
she told him 50 cents.
She saw him count his pocket change
and then his face got tense.
How much for some plain ice cream?
That’s 35, she said.
Bud smiled and asked for chocolate
then for peppermint instead.
He was always partial to peppermint,”
this father told his son
then went on with the lesson
about what Bud had done.
“Bud paid and left then Sandy went
to clear away his bowl.
She told his ma what she saw there
just touched her very soul.
And as she talked the tears began
to roll down Sandy’s face
remembering two nickels
and five pennies by his place.
He could have had a sundae,
but he settled for a dip
He could have thought just of himself
but instead, he left a tip.”
The lesson from that cowboy is
thank folks for what they do
and treat them with the same respect
you feel is due to you.
Doing unto others
should be each cowboy’s creed.
And if it were, we’d all be
better off, indeed.
Jeff Hildebrandt © 11/18/11
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
LIttle Country Church
I turned a picture into words. I hope these words create a picture for you.
Little Country Church
Wooden, white, weathered and worn,
surrounded by hard pack, thistle and thorn.
Whitewash fades from warping walls.
The steeple bell no longer calls
the faithful in to find their pews
and be inspired by God’s Good News.
Stained glass memories of better days
create a multi colored haze
on unused pulpit, dust-caked floors,
a broken chair and open doors.
Tractor tracks gouge the gravel drive
where farming families once arrived
on Sunday morning and Wednesday night.
But now, the economic plight
has forced those families off the land
and into lives they never planned.
Weeds grow thru the picket fence
that surrounds the congregants
who lay beneath once well kept sod.
Headstones proclaim their faith in God
and say they have gone on to Glory.
But, no one’s here to read their story.
The scene is quaint and some say, sad.
An empty church. But it’s not bad
because the seeds of faith they grew
have been transplanted someplace new.
The good news soon to be revealed
is of the increased harvest yield.
God’s field hands have been moved to where
they can witness, love and care
for those whose lives are in the lurch.
See, that building’s just a building.
God’s people are The Church.
Jeff Hildebrandt © Jan. 4, 2012
Little Country Church
Wooden, white, weathered and worn,
surrounded by hard pack, thistle and thorn.
Whitewash fades from warping walls.
The steeple bell no longer calls
the faithful in to find their pews
and be inspired by God’s Good News.
Stained glass memories of better days
create a multi colored haze
on unused pulpit, dust-caked floors,
a broken chair and open doors.
Tractor tracks gouge the gravel drive
where farming families once arrived
on Sunday morning and Wednesday night.
But now, the economic plight
has forced those families off the land
and into lives they never planned.
Weeds grow thru the picket fence
that surrounds the congregants
who lay beneath once well kept sod.
Headstones proclaim their faith in God
and say they have gone on to Glory.
But, no one’s here to read their story.
The scene is quaint and some say, sad.
An empty church. But it’s not bad
because the seeds of faith they grew
have been transplanted someplace new.
The good news soon to be revealed
is of the increased harvest yield.
God’s field hands have been moved to where
they can witness, love and care
for those whose lives are in the lurch.
See, that building’s just a building.
God’s people are The Church.
Jeff Hildebrandt © Jan. 4, 2012
Monday, January 9, 2012
Stress Management
By now, I presume that all of us who are going back to work, have gone back and those who are between jobs, have resumed the search. What we all share, more than likely, is a sense of stress. So, I'd like to share my
take on a remedy that I heard of a couple of years ago. When it comes to stress:
I’ve heard that cowboys don’t need shrinks
or boxes of puffs tissues.
Some gather with Jack Daniels
to help resolve their issues
while others learn stress management
to help them to unwind
and their technique will work for you.
First, you clear your mind.
Imagine you can hear the splash
of water over stones
The solitude surrounds you
in this place that’s all your own.
Sunlight streams through Oak and Pine.
Bluebirds dart thru trees
and there’s a sort of wet leaf smell
wafting on the breeze.
Then picture you next to a stream
with water, clear and cool
and you can see your image there,
reflected in the pool.
Now, next to you, you see the face
of one who caused your pain.
And you hold him underwater
till you’re peaceful once again.
Jeff Hildebrandt © 2012
take on a remedy that I heard of a couple of years ago. When it comes to stress:
I’ve heard that cowboys don’t need shrinks
or boxes of puffs tissues.
Some gather with Jack Daniels
to help resolve their issues
while others learn stress management
to help them to unwind
and their technique will work for you.
First, you clear your mind.
Imagine you can hear the splash
of water over stones
The solitude surrounds you
in this place that’s all your own.
Sunlight streams through Oak and Pine.
Bluebirds dart thru trees
and there’s a sort of wet leaf smell
wafting on the breeze.
Then picture you next to a stream
with water, clear and cool
and you can see your image there,
reflected in the pool.
Now, next to you, you see the face
of one who caused your pain.
And you hold him underwater
till you’re peaceful once again.
Jeff Hildebrandt © 2012
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