Is wealth for me?

Written by Debbie O'Meara


Have you ever believed that success was for other people? I know I have. It’s an easy trap to get into. We study hard in school, get good jobs, play byrepparttar rules, but at some point we get stuck.

So we look around and decide that things aren’t so bad, really. The kids have a roof over their heads and we’re not missing any meals…what more do we have a right to ask for? And besides, look at those poor unfortunates who have nothing. Shouldn’t we just be grateful for what we have? In other words, we settle.

Yes, of course we should be grateful for what we have (gratitude is another topic all by itself!) But who says we can’t be grateful while atrepparttar 128521 same time striving for greater heights?

None of us was born to mediocrity. A Universal Mind—the Mind of God--can’t play favorites. It can’t favor one of its parts overrepparttar 128522 others, any more than we can favor our right kidney over our left. So God, or destiny, or whatever we want to call it, hasn’t singled out some for riches and some for mediocrity. The loving Creator wantsrepparttar 128523 same good for all.

Flying in the Slow Lane

Written by Maureen Killoran


Dogs distrust hot air balloons. I gathered this tidbit as my husband and I floated overrepparttar mountains in a wicker gondola, listening torepparttar 128520 barking chorus that followed us even 3,000 feet intorepparttar 128521 air. The burner evokes canine protest -- but we had no problems, as we drifted withrepparttar 128522 currents and contemplatedrepparttar 128523 silent fog in its morning retreat overrepparttar 128524 hills.

We learned that a mere a six foot rise in altitude can change your direction, if your vehicle is a hot air balloon. We learned thatrepparttar 128525 tops of trees look a lot different from above, and birds look surprised if you greet them in their nest. We waved reassurance to cows whose moos voiced concern at our strange presence overhead and we called "good morning" torepparttar 128526 folk who blessed us with their waves.

"Are those sheep?" my husband wondered,

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