In God's Hands

A basketball in my hands is worth about $19. A basketball in Michael Jordan's hands is worth about $33 million.
It depends whose hands it's in.
A baseball in my hands is worth about $6. A baseball in Mark McGwire's hands
is worth $19 million.
It depends whose hands it's in.
A tennis racket is useless in my hands.
A tennis racket in Pete Sampra's hands
is a Wimbledon Championship.
It depends whose hands it's in.
A rod in my hands
will keep away a wild animal
A rod in Moses' hands
will part the mighty sea.
It depends whose hands it's in.
A sling shot in my hands is a kid's toy
A sling shot in David's hand
is a mighty weapon.
It depends whose hands it's in.
Two fish and 5 loaves of bread in my hands is a couple of fish sandwiches.
Two fish and 5 loaves of bread in God's hands will feed thousands.
It depends whose hands it's in.
Nails in my hands
might produce a birdhouse
Nails in Jesus Christ's hands
will produce salvation
for the entire world.
It depends whose hands it's in.
As you see now it depends on whose hands it's in So put your concerns, your worries, your fears, your hopes, your dreams, your families and your relationships in God's hands because
It depends whose hands it's in.

(http://www.freewebs.com/sacredheartlay/daretothink.htm?blogentryid=2941347#topBox)

The Cracked Pot

A water bearer had two large pots, one hung on each end of a pole, which he carried across his neck.

One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house. The cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years, this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water in his master's house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made.But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?" I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house.Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said. I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path."Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them.

For two years, I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."

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Moral: Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots.But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are, and look for the good in them. There is a lot of good out there.

Any Comment on This?

In the September 2006 issue of Kerygma, an article reads, “What kind of Catholics can we raise with misguided teachers?” He further stated, “Misfit instructors with rebellious streaks are often disgruntled ex –seminarians or ex-religious who harbor prejudices that they carry into the classrooms.”

Any comment on this?

SHS General Alumni Homecoming

Alumni of the Sacred Heart Seminary in Bacolod City will hold their general alumni homecoming this coming October 20-21, 2008. Priests and lay alumni are invited!

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For more info visit http://www.freewebs.com/sacredheartlay/ thank you very much!

Former Seminarians Helping the Church

I believe that former seminarians are of great help to the parish as well as to the diocese and to the Catholic Church in general. We were once trained to become evangelizers but stumbled in our way towards priesthood. Everybody makes mistakes. Yes, we all make mistakes but we still have the qualities to become great evangelizers. I believe that we have good and great ideas, which will help the Catholic Church through our own little ways, and many little things make great things possible!

Touching the Future

“I touch the future – I teach" Simple yet meaningful words printed on a souvenir item. Only few are given the chance to shape the future and teachers are privileged to be among them. Teachers bear a great responsibility – The future is inches away from their hands.

What kind of future will we have if we have monsters lurking inside the classrooms? Monsters who tear hearts and pierce minds. Monsters who ruin the dreams and scar the memories of innocent students, depriving them their bright future. Monsters who dare to call themselves teachers when they are not. They have sowed hatred and wished to reap love.

I can still remember the pain when my ear was almost ripped. The burning sting on m y cheek slapped with a plastic envelope and speaking the national language brings a lump to my throat. No one can think that I got these inside the classroom. I believe that there are many others who share my fate from these monsters who vent their frustrations in life to their students.

What lies ahead if we let these criminals on the loose? They do not just touch the future; they already smashed it before somebody gets there.

On the other hand, another hand can touch the future. A hand that brings hope to the future, a hand that belongs to a real teacher - teachers who leave their families and teach others first. They spend more time with other children rather than their own.

I am proud to say that my mother is one of them. She was teaching in the mountainous area of our then municipality when I was a child. Transportation was next to impossible so mother had to go by Sunday morning and be back home by Saturday, mostly in the evening. I could barely see her home. It was always my father who was at my side. He was the one who taught me my first ABC’s on a piece of paper while mother taught hundreds of children how to read and write. I did not resent this; I was proud because my mother’s a teacher.

Most of the teachers are living miserably because of overwhelming debts. People console them by hailing them heroes and by telling them that teaching is a noble profession. For these, they are paid meager salaries and offered every loan available.


Indeed they are heroes! They live and die unnoticed and the fruits of their labors and endeavors are enjoyed by others still. (During elections, teachers are made scapegoats by politicians. They are accused of cheating which they did not commit. Some even died in horrible ways in this mock exercise of suffrage.)

Parents and teachers have the obligation to educate the children. Parents sometimes tend to do away with their responsibilities. They send their children to school and let the teachers carry the burden of their deficiencies to their children. Parents forgot that education and discipline begin at home. When their children perform poorly, they blame the teachers. (A friend of mine was mauled by a father in front of horrified pupils for this reason.) It is really very hard to be a real teacher…

Dear parents and teachers, the future does not belong to any of us. We only touch it. The children are our future. Given these hands to choose from, we can still dream of a brighter future ahead of us. We can mold the future by using the hands of a real teacher.

As a teacher, I have proven that teaching is a very noble profession and indeed it is very hard to be a real teacher but it is not impossible to be real teacher.