The Two Pebbles

Many years ago in a small Italian town, a merchant had the misfortune of owing a large sum of money to the moneylender. The moneylender, who was old and ugly, fancied the merchant's beautiful daughter, so he proposed a bargain. He said he would forgo the merchant's debt if he could marry the daughter. Both the merchant and his daughter were horrified by the proposal. 

The moneylender told them that he would put a black pebble and a white pebble into an empty bag. The girl would then have to pick one pebble from the bag. If she picked the black pebble, she would become the moneylender's wife and her father's debt would be forgiven. If she picked the white pebble, she need not marry him and her father's debt would still be forgiven. But, if she refused to pick a pebble, her father would be thrown into jail.

They were standing on a pebble-strewn path in the merchant's garden. As they talked, the moneylender bent over to pick up two pebbles. As he picked them up, the sharp-eyed girl noticed that he had picked up two black pebbles and put them into the bag. He then asked the girl to pick her pebble from the bag. The girl put her hand into the bag and drew out a pebble. Without looking at it, she fumbled and let it fall onto the pebble-strewn path where it immediately became lost among all the other pebbles. "Oh, how clumsy of me," she said. "But never mind, if you look into the bag for the one that is left, you will be able to tell which pebble I picked."

Sometimes it is necessary to think out of the box or, in this case, out of the bag.


-- Author Unknown

A Resting Place

He was just passing through.

Sadly I'd only have a few minutes to speak with him.
Still, like all the people God places in my path,
 what he had to say was important.

I came home from shopping at the grocery store to find
a man sitting on my steps.

As I stopped in front of my home to let on coming
traffic by, I kept looking at him. I had no idea 
who he was or why he was there. I could clearly see that he appeared exhausted as 
he wiped the sweat off his brow. I would guess he was in his 50's. Dressed in 
shorts and a Nike t-shirt and running shoes, I assumed he was exercising. But it was one of the hottest days so far this
 summer and the humidity was thick and heavy.

I slowly pulled into my driveway and as I approached where he was sitting, he looked up at me.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I really needed to sit down."

"That's fine." I replied. "Take your time."

I quickly parked my car and went in to get a bottle
of water for him.

I startled him when I opened the front door.

"Here, please have some water," I offered.

"Thanks," he replied as he took a few slow sips.

"You know I admire the runners I see passing my house 
regularly. But isn't this a really bad day to run?"

"I know that now." he said smiling. "I really just
started this running thing. I need to get in shape."

I walked down the steps and sat with him for a few minutes. I asked about how long he runs, if he is also 
dieting, etc.

Then I asked him the real reason "why" he runs.

"I have come to discover that real runners don't do
it just for the exercise. There is a place that running 
takes them. A "zone" for a lack of better words," I said.

Then he set the bottle of water down and looked at me.

"That's remarkable. I really began this because I needed
to stop, get away from all the stress in my life."

"That's funny. You began running because you had to stop. You are in essence running away from the things that 
are causing you stress. I love it!"

"At the end of a long day when I was sitting in my living
room trying to sort things out in my mind I heard, "Stop.
Give a portion of your time to just listen, not think."

"So running came to mind?" I asked.

"Yes. I think people can do the same, gain the same results
 in that area by walking, too. But, for now I am running."

Then he stood up, thanked me for the water and walked away.

Of course, I know this was more than coincedence. You see, I
spend too much time thinking. Even while watching a movie,
going for a drive, or simply sitting on my porch, my mind
 keeps running.

I have no idea who that man was. I have never seen him running
before and something tells me I will never see him again.

What I did "see" was the message and it will stay with me like an old 
friend. It is up to me to act upon it.

I believe the answers we seek are inside us. People and events
trigger the proper response, but we all too often ignore them.

We all know the answers to our challenges in life. We need to stop
giving life to our challenges and begin to bring life to the answers.

What lies dormant inside will astound you.

Permit me to share this quote with you:

"The resting place of the mind is the heart. The only thing
the mind hears all day is clanging bells and noise and argument,
and all it wants is quietude. The only place the mind will ever 
find peace is inside the silence of the heart. That's where
you need to go." -- Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

You can't run from your challenges. They will surely be there when 
you get back.

"Stop. Give a portion of your time to just listen, not think."

"I believe in you!"


-- Bob Perks (inspirational author and speaker)

Time to be Quiet

Popular author and speaker Ken Blanchard sometimes tells a powerful story about Red, a corporate president who, as a young man, learned an important and life-changing lesson. Red had just graduated from college and was offered an opportunity to interview for a position with a firm in New York City. As the job involved moving his wife and small child from Texas to New York, he wanted to talk the decision over with someone before accepting it, but his father had died and Red did not feel he had anybody to turn to. On impulse, he telephoned an old friend of the family; someone his father had suggested he turn to if he ever needed good advice.

The friend said he would be happy to give Red advice about the job offer under the condition that the young man takes whatever advice he was given. "You might want to think about that for a couple of days before hearing my suggestion," he was told.

Two days later Red called the man back and said he was ready to listen to his counsel. "Go on to New York City and have the interview," the older man said. "But I want you to go up there in a very special way. I want you to go on a train and I want you to get a private compartment. Don't take anything to write with, anything to listen to or anything to read, and don't talk to anybody except to put in your order for dinner with the porter. When you get to New York call me and I will tell you what to do next."

Red followed the advice precisely. The trip took two days. As he had brought along nothing to do and kept entirely to himself, he quickly became bored. It soon dawned on him what was happening. He was being forced into quiet time. He could do nothing but think and meditate.

About three hours outside New York City he broke the rules and asked for a pencil and paper. Until the train stopped, he wrote -- the culmination of all his meditation.

Red called the family friend from the train station. "I know what you wanted," he said. "You wanted me to think. And now I know what to do. I don't need anymore help."

"I didn't think you would, Red," came the reply. "Good luck."

Sorry, I don't know if he took the job or not. But Blanchard reports that, years later, Red headed a corporation in California. And he always made it a policy to take a couple of days to be alone. He went where there was no phone, no television, no distractions and no people. He went to be alone; to meditate and to listen.

The French writer and Nobel Prize winner André Gide reminds us to "be faithful to that which exists within yourself." But how can we be faithful when we don't really know what is inside?

The answer for me is to be quiet. To still my mind ... and to listen.

I'll soon know what to do.


-- Steve Goodier (Life Support)