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[Pakadevas~Sunday Inspirationals]  Patsy Rideout
 Feb 03, 2008 12:31 PST 

((Welcome everyone)) to our Sunday Inspirationals.
Most of these were sent in by some of you TO the rest of you:)
If you have something to add, or a request...send it along, we print
them all, within reason...this *news-letter is for you!
Thank you all...Patsy xoxoxo

This is the place. We have a *interesting finds, *contests, beauty,
crafts & recipes *news* Mon.- Sat. & have added this Inspirational one
for Sundays only...For our NEW PEOPLE; you have arrived at Pakadevas
from our *site, or others we advertise with, *news-, -search -engines
etc.

Enjoy your stay:)
http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com


Daily-news
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*Leaving us *instructions are at the bottom of any ...news...


Please go see your Prayer Requests for today:
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~To see Pakadevas Archives:
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What?!! Not a member of PakadevasFreebees yet? Join Here:)
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Beautiful notes from you:)

First ethan is now in a hospitla south of here(born Dec17 2007) they
may have to do stomach surgery    he is constantly throwing up (his
great grandma called me in tears)

Sawyer premmie born jan 1 2007/ has even though very compromised
lungs is now in a Pittsburgh hospital with pneumonia( he was born at 24
weeks)       
Blessings cat/cathy
*
*



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(\o/)
Thank Him
http://www.nethugs.com/thankhim.shtml
(\o/)


(\o/)
Hello God...

Hello God, I called tonight
To talk a little while
I need a friend who'll listen
To my anxiety and trial.

You see, I can't quite make it
Through a day just on my own...
I need your love to guide me,
So I'll never feel alone.

I want to ask you please to keep,
My family safe and sound.
Come and fill their lives with confidence
For whatever fate they're bound.

Give me faith, dear God, to face
Each hour throughout the day,
And not to worry over things
I can't change in any way.

I thank you God, for being home
And listening to my call,
For giving me such good advice
When I stumble and fall..

Your number, God, is the only one
That answers every time.
I never get a busy signal,
Never had to pay a dime.

So thank you, God, for listening
To my troubles and my sorrow.
Good night, God, I love You, too,
And I'll call again tomorrow!
P.S. Please bless all my friends and family too.

Thank you Nancy K:)
\o/)



(\o/)
Elder William Commanda believes that it is of crucial importance at this
time that all the children of Mother Earth learn to come together with
one heart, one mind, one love and one determination, and create the
fitting legacy for all our children and our children’s children:

A Circle of All Nations: A Culture of Peace
http://www.circleofallnations.com/
(\o/)


(\o/)
The Old Man and the Dog by Catherine Moore

'Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!' My father yelled at me.
'Can't you do anything right?'

Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly
man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my
throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.

'I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.' My voice
was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad
in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts.
Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of
distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.

What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being
outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of
nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed
often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested
to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a
heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside
alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased
him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had
done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An
ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to
keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an
operating room. He was lucky; he survived.

But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He
obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of
help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors
thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small
farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him
adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It
seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I
became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on
Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor
and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling
appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God
to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was
silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each
of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my
problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just
when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, 'I just
read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.' I
listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a
nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic
depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were
given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a
questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of
disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each
contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black
dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one
but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small,
too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far
corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat
down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was
a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with
shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it
was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they
beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. 'Can you tell me about him?' The officer looked,
then shook his head in puzzlement.

'He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate.
We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him.
That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up
tomorrow.' He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. 'You mean you're
going to kill him?'

'Ma'am,' he said gently, 'that's our policy. We don't have room for
every unclaimed dog.'

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision.
'I'll take him,' I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached
the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car
when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.

'Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!' I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. 'If I had wanted a dog I
would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen
than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it' Dad waved his arm
scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded
into my temples.

'You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!' Dad ignored me.   
'Did you hear me, Dad?' I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily,
his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with
hate.

We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer
pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in
front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.

Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion
replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad
was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the
pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They
spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments
on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even
started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and
Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's
bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one
night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our
bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke
Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed,
his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the
night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne
lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he
had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I
silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's
peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks
like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews
reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and
Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It
was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then
the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. 'Be not forgetful to entertain
strangers.'

'I've often thanked God for sending that angel,' he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not
seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right
article...

Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . .his calm
acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of
their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my
prayers after all.

Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly
and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Tell the people you love
that you love them, at every opportunity. Forgive now those who made you
cry. You might not get a
second time.

Lost time can never be found.

Thank you Morag F:)
(\o/)



(\o/)
Enter with respect for indigenous ways and hear the sounds of Native
American music here.
http://www.gatheringofnations.com/front.htm
(\o/)



(\o/)
Walking with Angels
http://www.nethugs.com/walkingangels.shtml
(\o/)



(\o/)
To all of you from me:)

Awwwwwwwwwww
Unlikely friendships.
Let's all be like these friends & be friends always, with those who seem
a little different on the outside, but have kindred spirits on the
inside:)
http://www.slide.com/r/hD6DvyAOxD9ClUhvUpVcUMABW9QzpGnQ


Take care of yourselves and your loved ones!
Patsy quoting Rob

Love & hugs to all in 2008, from Patsy & Kay xoxoxo


Remembering Rob 1-10
http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com/RememberingRob.html
RememberingRob10 (still in progress)
http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com/RememberingRob10.html
(\o/)


Please take a moment & vote for Pakadevas:)
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Have a blessed day!
Patsy *S*

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Our mailing address for new mailing rules under the new act. Please only
use this for friendly mail:) Thank you...Patsy *S*
Patsy Rideout
Pakadevas-Freebees
PO Box 448, Thessalon
Ontario, Canada P0R1L0
*Con`tact Patsy: rpk-@nf.aibn.com

If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.


( \      / )
( \()/ )
( / \ )    TAKE THIS LITTLE ANGEL
( / \/ \ )   AND KEEP HER CLOSE TO YOU
/       \    SHE IS YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL
(         )    SENT TO WATCH OVER YOU
                       ____

Thank you Jane K:)



¸//// \\\\, ___________
*´º oº`* /__/ _/\_ ____/\
```)¨(´´´ | | | | | | | || |l±±±±|
¸,.-*°´ ¸,.-*~*~*-.,¸ `°*-. :º° *~*~*-..,¸
"As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."



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