Your Candle - by Paula Rose Michelson

Although I wrote this piece in 1999 as part of an Ere of Shabbat (Friday night) Women’s Retreat lightening presentation, today I am posting it to celebrate our new bundle of joy, baby Eric.

Each child brings a blessing and a challenge. The blessing is the gift of life given from above, especially chosen by God for us. The challenge that grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends, and parents seek wisdom as we help mold this young life into a person who will chose to do what is right even when others tell him that what he is doing is wrong. A person who knows the Lord, loves Him, and wants to emulate Him - and Him alone.

I am certain that all of us endeavor to fulfill that calling. At times, we all fall short. That is why today the Lord asked me to post this poem as a reminder and a promise from Him. For truly when we are at our wits end, when everything we have tried to teach seems to have fallen upon deaf ears it is important to remember that…

Each of us has a special spark inside,
That needs to be lit and share with pride.
Not pride in who we are or what we do,
But pride in our Messiah who made our life new.
For just as these candles were shaped by a mold,
God has designed us in a way that is wonderful to behold!

It may take a lifetime to learn to yield our will,
So that God can make us a vessel worthy to fill,
With the pure light of His radiance and grace,
As evidenced by Yeshua who chose to take our place.

He came into this world,
The true light for all to see,
and yielded His life upon that fateful tree.
So as we put the match to the candles wick,
Let us each recall,
That we are but a small reflection of the greatest light of all
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Paula Writing for the Messianic Times – July/August Issue

About five months ago, my Rabbi’s wife, Bonnie asked me to contact her friend Karen who is the editor of the Messianic Times because they needed writers. I spoke with Karen and sent her some samples of my writing and three interviews I had done for the Casa Saga. Although we clicked, I heard nothing from her until yesterday when she emailed me to see if I would be interested in writing a piece for the July/August issue. I suggested we talk today.

After a detailed conversation where we seemed to complete each other’s sentences, she told me of several opportunities. When she mentioned the third one the Spirit quickened it to my heart and hers! How fortunate for me that Bonnie mentioned my work to Karen and that she still remembered me after all this time.

Knowing that prayer must undergird everything, I am asking each of you lift up my ability to contact and interview the person that I am to write about and that my writing is clear and effectively uses the voice that the paper has established.

Furthermore, since the editor mentioned monthly assignments and my having a selection, please petition Adonai that I only ask for those assignments that He has chosen for me and that this work will bear fruit and bring the unsaved to Messiah!

Yours in Our Kinsman Redeemer,
Paula Rose Michelson – Author – The Casa Saga
Book One – Casa de Naomi – The House of Blessing – Yearning – fall 2001
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Just Stay – Author Unknown - E-mailed to me by Bobbi Skinner

A nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the bedside. "Your son is here," she said to the old man. She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened.

Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young uniformed Marine standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The Marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement.

The nurse brought a chair so that the Marine could sit beside the bed. All through the night the young Marine sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength. Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move away and rest awhile.

He refused. Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the Marine was oblivious of her and of the night noises of the hospital - the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries, and moans of the other patients.

Now and then, she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night.

Along towards dawn, the old man died. The Marine released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse. While she did what she had to do, he waited.

Finally, she returned. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her. "Who was that man?" he asked.

The nurse was startled, "He was your father," she answered.

"No, he wasn't," the Marine replied. "I never saw him before in my life."

"Then why didn't you say something when I took you to him?"

"I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn't here.

When I realized that he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, knowing how much he needed me, I stayed. I came here tonight to find a Mr. William Grey. His son was killed in Iraq today, and I was sent to inform him. What was this gentleman's name?”

The Nurse with tears in her eyes answered, “Mr. William Grey..."

The next time someone needs you...just be there. Stay.

REMEMBER: We are not human beings going through a temporary spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings going through a temporary human experience.
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