IF YOU ONLY BELIEVE WHAT YOU SEE

 Dr Wayne W Dyer, in his little book 'Everyday Wisdom', tells us:

"If you only believe what you see, then you're limited to what's on the surface.

If you only believe what you see, why do you pay your electric bill?"

Words of wisdom indeed - and wise advice not to limit ourselves to what we can see when there's so much in our lives that's unseen, but real!

An Evocative Billie Holiday Song

 Here are some evocative words for you from a war-time Billie Holiday song:

'I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places that this heart of mine embraces all day through.

In that small cafe, the park across the way, the children's carousel, the chestnut trees, the wishing well.

I'll be seeing you in every lovely summer's day, in everything that's light and gay, I'll always think of you that way.

I'll find you in the morning sun and when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon, but I'll be seeing you.'

With music by Sammy Fain and lyrics by Irving Kahal, this beautiful song became a sentimental anthem for British & American soldiers serving overseas.

But the words resonate for us all, still today, don't they?

DEATH IS NOT THE END

 You've gone beyond my sight but, oh, the memories you've left behind!

We always said death wouldn't be the end - and it isn't!

I know that now because last night you stood at my bedside and said: "Nothing has changed, my love, but for the veil now between us. That's all it is and it's intangible. So simply think it gone and you'll see that I am here - just as I ever was."

 

THERE COMES A TIME

 I've long been a fan of Ella Wheeler Wilcox and, whether you're a fan or not, I think you'll relate to these profound words of hers:

'There comes a time to every mortal being, whate'er his station or his lot in life, when his sad soul yearns for the final freeing from all this jarring and unceasing strife.

There comes a time, when, having lost its savour, the salt of wealth is worthless; when the mind grows wearied with the world's capricious favour, and sighs for something that it cannot find.

There comes a time, when, though kind friends thronging about our pathway with sweet acts of grace, we feel a vast and overwhelming longing for something that we cannot name or place. 

There comes a time, when, with earth's best love by us, to feed the heart's great hunger and desire, we find not even this can satisfy us; the soul within us cries for something higher.

What greater proof need we that we inherit a life immortal in another sphere? It is the homesick longing of the spirit that cannot find its satisfaction here.'