With a broken-down oven, in a hotel kitchen, on an uninhabited island
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Hugh Prather is a Methodist minister, lecturer, counselor, and the author of numerous bestsellers, including Notes to Myself (Bantam). He lives in Tucson, Arizona.
We are walking in a ticker-tape parade. That’s all that’s going on. Some pieces of confetti read “great calves,” some “chronic sinus,” some “no noticeable hair loss,” some “multiple sclerosis,” and some “third-finger amputation.” Don’t judge your neighbor by what pieces of paper fall on his or her shoulders. Don’t think you are cursed or blessed by what pieces fall on yours.
We were not brought together through signs and wonders; we did not even particularly love each other. We married on impulse the night of our third date without “hearing a Voice,” and things went rapidly downhill from there.
At the start of our journey, the perception of love may appear to come and quickly go. And for some there may be long periods of comparative bleakness. Yet beneath it will be a growing sense of gentleness and innocence and a deepening conviction that a Friend walks beside us and holds our hand in love.
Your mind can smile. Did you know that? Try it right now and you will see. Amusement without mockery is divine. Laugh softly at yourself. Notice how everyone does the best he can. There is no one undeserving of a gentle pat and the light touch of your love.
“Rely on yourself” and “Do not rely on yourself” alone are not conflicting ideas. One must rely on what he is, but what he is is not alone.