Put Wings On Your Dreams

Written by Ginny Dye

We Need Dreams Dreams are important. Notrepparttar dreams you have when sleeping. I’m talking aboutrepparttar 139207 dreams you have for your future –repparttar 139208 dreams that keep you going –repparttar 139209 dreams that make each day worth living.

Dreams Aren’t Enough As important as dreams are, they aren’t enough. Why? Dreams don’t take you where you want to go. A dream needs wings – to become a tangible vision – a passion that will take you where you REALLY want to be. Bethany Hamilton lives in Hawaii – her passion is surfing – her dream is to become a professional surfer. She spends every available minute inrepparttar 139210 water, even home-schooling so she can have more time to pursue her vision. At 8 years of age she entered her first major competition takingrepparttar 139211 division championships that year. Bethany’s dream had become her passion – a tangible vision.

When Your Vision Is Attacked Bethany’s vision was viciously attacked on Halloween morning, 2003, when she was 13 years old. Bethany was lying on her board -- left arm dangling inrepparttar 139212 cool water. She remembers a flash of gray, pressure, and a couple fast tugs. She also remembers watchingrepparttar 139213 jaws of a 15-foot tiger shark coverrepparttar 139214 top of her board and her left arm. The shark was gone as fast as it appeared. So was her arm.

What It Takes To Keep Your Vision Alive Fast thinking friends and surgery saved Bethany’s life. Everyone – including Bethany – believed her surfing days were over. But within a week her vision returned -- she rejected thoughts of defeat. Less than 30 days afterrepparttar 139215 attack Bethany was back inrepparttar 139216 water. Her family and friends were there to cheer her on. Her first attempts were failures. She struggled to push herself up with one arm and keep her balance. She was afraid her dream would die inrepparttar 139217 water that day –repparttar 139218 shark victorious after all. Bethany pushed down her fears, gritted her teeth, and kept trying. And then it happened. Tears rolled down her face --repparttar 139219 crowd cheered – she caught her first wave and rode it in.

Ask For Such Strength

Written by A.Z. Alfred

And he said unto me, my grace is sufficient for thee: For my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:9 (KJV)

Every morning I openrepparttar Bible. I can’t help but read at least a verse fromrepparttar 139167 books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes because I need wisdom for each day. Then I would plunge deeply into studying my Bible. Thirty minutes to an hour later, I would close my Holy book, pray and facerepparttar 139168 day.

But one morning was exceptional. I woke up with a heavy heart and a migraine headache. I knewrepparttar 139169 cause of my infirmities. I had believed God for a job forrepparttar 139170 past five years, but a day before, I lost out at another interview. So I felt hopeless and empty. The strength to hang on ran dry and I was weak torepparttar 139171 core.

Relaxing for a while, I picked up my Bible. I opened it like it was some coffee-table book. My troubled eyes fell on Mark chapter five. I scanned through to verse twenty-five to thirty-five. It wasrepparttar 139172 story ofrepparttar 139173 woman withrepparttar 139174 issue of blood. Though I did not knowrepparttar 139175 reason, but I readrepparttar 139176 account story six times that remarkable morning.

This is a story I’ve heard all my life from my age eight when attending Sunday school classes. I knew her story so well like my last name; I knew it likerepparttar 139177 number of blouses in my small closet. It was a miraculous story of faith more than that of a mustard seed.

I remembered inrepparttar 139178 University campus fellowship, we gave her story a name, “ The garment’s faith”. I personally had preachedrepparttar 139179 garment’s faith to believers and unbelievers more than a hundred times but after reading it six times, God wanted me reading it again.

“What do you want to tell me in this?” I questioned God.

“ Read it again, my daughter”repparttar 139180 still voice responded, ignoring my question.

“ God! Read what again? I’ve read this story all my life and I’ve got her kind of faith.” I yelled out loud. Butrepparttar 139181 still voice was adamant and I was left with a choice, to read it again. Then, as I went through it, something dawned on me. Something I’ve never thought of hit me hard.

The woman was strong, rich and healthy. Perhaps people envied her for her success. Perhaps she had taught people a hundred times how to remain healthy and rich. But one day she was ready for her monthly menstrual period just like every other woman. After three to five days,repparttar 139182 flow never stopped. She became worried, saw a gynaecologist, got some medications and was told not to worry, but it persisted. Her worries led to fear as she tried other doctors, still no changes. She tried whatever people suggested and they were as diverse as they were costly until she spent all her lot. Before her very eyes, everything she had acquired completely disappeared.

Twelve years later, her expensive linen and satin turned ragged sackcloth with patches. Her strong physique turned a weary bone bag. She was nothing but a walking corpse. She was so frail with no strength to stand on her legs. Then her families and friends abandoned her, throwingrepparttar 139183 once celebrated woman to a corner, outsiderepparttar 139184 city, where lepers live.

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