Maximum Efforts: Love is the thing that matters most

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Love is the thing that matters most

Everyone elects to live a life where they finally, eventually, choose love over fear. Love is the whole point of everything. Love is the essence. Love is the ultimate goal, the only real goal. Other goals, such as happiuness, security, success, safety, power and wealth, lose all value and meaning without love. We live for love.

Life works when you love; it falls apart when you don't. Love is attractive. You attract great things when you choose to love. Love is heaven. Love inspires us to live longer and live our life to the maximum. It gives us more space - to do some more and exert an extra mile ahead.

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Give me the heart of a man

More than half beaten, but fearless,
Facing the storm and the night;
Breathless and reeling, but tearless,
Here in the lull of the fight,
I who bow not but before Thee,
God of the Fighting Clan,
Lifting my fists I implore Thee,
Give me the heart of a Man!

What though I live with the winners,
Or perish with those who fall?
Only the cowards are sinners,
Fighting the fight is all.
Strong is my Foe - he advances!
Snapt is my blade, O Lord!
See the proud banners and lances!
Oh, spare me this stub of a sword!

Give me no pity, nor spare me;
Calm not the wrath of my Foe.
See where he beckons to dare me!
Bleeding, half beaten - I go.
Not for the glory of winning,
Not for the fear of the night;
Shunning the battle is sinning -
Oh, spare me the heart to fight!

Red is the mist about me;
Deep is the wound in my side;
"Coward" thou criest to flout me?
O terrible Foe, thou hast lied!
Here with my battle before me,
God of the Fighting Clan,
Grant that the woman who bore me
Suffered to suckle a Man!
[John G. Neihardt]

AGE

Ah nothing is too late till the tired heart
shall cease to palpitate.
Cato learned Greek at eighty; Sophocles wrote his
grand Oedipus, and Simonides
Bore off the prize of verse from his compeers
When each had numbered more than fourscore years.

Chaucer, at Woodstock with the nightingales,
At sixty wrote the Canterbury Tales;
Goethe at Weimar, toiling to the last
Completed Faust when eighty years were past.

For age is opportunity no less
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
[Henry Wadsworth Longfellow]

A Friend

A friend is one who needs us and one whom we need.
Around us may be many whose companionship we enjoy,
but were they suddenly to drop out of their places there
would be no soreness, no sense of deprivation, no lack of
comfort. We do not need them; neither do they need us.
A friend is one to whom we cling, though many leagues
of space separate us. Though days pass with no sight
of his face or word from his pen, we know our friend
loves us and that when we meet again we will be on
the same old terms: we shall begin where we left off.
A friend is one in whom we can confide. The secret
chambers of our soul open to his touch on the latch.
[Jesse Dinger]

Heirs of Tomorrow

Children of yesterday,
Heirs of tomorrow,
What are you weaving?
Labor and sorrow?
Look to your looms again.
Faster and faster
Fly the great shuttles
Prepared by the Master;
Life's in the loom,
Room for it -
Room!

Children of yesterday,
Heirs of tomorrow,
Lighten the labor
And sweeten the sorrow.
Now, while the shuttles fly
Faster and faster,
Up and be at it,
At work with the Master;
He stands at your loom,
Room for Him -
Room!

Children of yesterday,
Heirs of tomorrow,
Look at your fabric
Of labor and sorrow.
Seamy and dark
With despair and disaster,
Turn it, and - lo,
The design of the Master!
The Lord's at the loom,
Room for Him -
Room!
[Mary Artemisia Lathbury]

Maximum Efforts

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Love is the thing that matters most

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