(no subject)
THE MAN OR THE MOON --
by Max Lucado
from his new book, It's Not About Me
Perhaps our place is not at the center of the universe. The moon models our role.
What does the moon do? She generates no light. Apart from the sun, the moon is nothing more than a pitch black, pock-marked rock. But properly positioned, the moon beams. Let her do what she was made to do, and a clod of dirt becomes a source of inspiration, yeah, verily, romance. The moon reflects the greater light.
And she’s happy to do so! You never hear the moon complaining. She makes no waves about making waves. Let the cow jump over her or astronauts step on her, she never objects. Even though sunning is accepted while mooning the butt of bad jokes, you won’t hear ol’ Cheeseface grumble. The moon is at peace in her place. And because she is, soft light touches a dark earth.
What would happen if we accepted our place as Son reflectors?
Such a shift comes so stubbornly. We’ve been demanding our way and stomping our feet since infancy. Aren’t we all born with a default drive toward selfishness? I want a spouse that makes me happy and co-workers that always ask my opinion. I want weather that suits me and traffic that helps me and a government that serves me. It is all about me.
But what if it’s not about you?
by Max Lucado
from his new book, It's Not About Me
Perhaps our place is not at the center of the universe. The moon models our role.
What does the moon do? She generates no light. Apart from the sun, the moon is nothing more than a pitch black, pock-marked rock. But properly positioned, the moon beams. Let her do what she was made to do, and a clod of dirt becomes a source of inspiration, yeah, verily, romance. The moon reflects the greater light.
And she’s happy to do so! You never hear the moon complaining. She makes no waves about making waves. Let the cow jump over her or astronauts step on her, she never objects. Even though sunning is accepted while mooning the butt of bad jokes, you won’t hear ol’ Cheeseface grumble. The moon is at peace in her place. And because she is, soft light touches a dark earth.
What would happen if we accepted our place as Son reflectors?
Such a shift comes so stubbornly. We’ve been demanding our way and stomping our feet since infancy. Aren’t we all born with a default drive toward selfishness? I want a spouse that makes me happy and co-workers that always ask my opinion. I want weather that suits me and traffic that helps me and a government that serves me. It is all about me.
But what if it’s not about you?