Thursday, December 1, 2016

I choose to have Joy, I have confidence that God is in control

The Window, by G.W. Target...From Charles R. Swindoll's book, Laugh Again.

Two men, seriously ill, occupied the same small hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he wold pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the outside world
   The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake, the man said. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every color of the rainbow. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. Unexpectedly, an alien thought entered his head. Why should he have all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see anything?
    As the days passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood and found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window - that thought now controlled his life.
    Late one night as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the window began to cough. He was choking on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button to call for help. Listening from across the room, he never moved, never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes the coughing and choking stopped. Now there was only silence - deathly silence.
    The following morning the day nurse found the lifeless body of the man by the window and called the attendants to take it away - no words, no fuss. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
     Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look. He strained to look out the window by the bed.
     It faced a blank wall.

    One ship drives east and another drives west
    With the selfsame winds that blow.
     'Tis the set of the sails and not the gales
     Which tells the way to go

    Like the winds of the sea are the ways of fate,
   As we voyage along through life:
    It's the set of the soul, that decides it;s goal,
    And not the calm or the strife.

     The winds of Fate, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

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