Heath with a Purpose

Almost any given day on my way to and home from work I drive by multiply people standing at various intersections throughout the commute, claiming they are homeless and in need of money and at the end of their sign will say God bless. What is so difficult for me is I always want to know their story. Whether it is their history, their struggle, or even their plan to get out of their situation. I have always had a soft spot for these people. I do believe that God does put these weights on our hearts to allow his Spirit to work through us by loving and caring for certain purposes. But I cannot help but think that this soft spot in my heart that hurts when I see someone begging was born through my own up bringing. When I was 7 my mom past away with breast cancer. My dad worked three jobs (plumber by day, waiter by night, and referee in between the two) just to take care of me and my brother and sister. My dad was superman. However, within the first year after the passing of my mom...

I had a sarcastically exciting night last night. Everything started out great. I went to bed at a decent time, all of my chores were done, my wife was sleeping and I was writing down some teaching ideas.  It was peaceful. I was productive. It was a successful night all around. Then I heard it. Little hacking and gargling coming from the end of the bed.  My wife and I have two pets. A little toy poodle named Chico and a cat named Chip.  I look up fearing what I might see, and there it was. Puke in a pile at the end of the bed travelling over the edge and onto the carpeted floor. I immediately got up and proceeded to clean the duvet cover. It was hopeless. By the grace of God I was able to get the duvet cover off the duvet and not wake my wife. I felt like Houdini. I scrubbed the floor, rinsed the duvet cover, and threw it into the wash.  I thought I was handling it really well. While I was down stairs putting the duvet cover into the wash I noticed...