People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.  When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.  They have come to assist you through a difficulty; to provide you with guidance and support; to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.  They may seem like a godsend, and they are.  They are there for the reason you need them to be.

Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.  Sometimes they die.  Sometimes they walk away.  Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.

What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done.  The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.  They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.  They may teach you something you have never done.  They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.  Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons; things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.  Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.

It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.
Thank you for being a part of my life, whether you were a reason, a season or a lifetime.
(author unknown)
                                               
 
Blessings,
Lisa Beretz, 518-330-9277
 

“It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas Tree.  No name, no identification, no inscription.  It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years.  It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas.  Oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it – overspending and the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma – the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth.  I reached for something special just for Mike.  The inspiration came in an unusual way.  Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was on the wrestling team at the school he attended.  Shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church.  These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears.  It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford.  Well, we ended up walloping them.  We took every weight class.  Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, “I wish just one of them could have won,” he said.  “They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.”  Mike loved kids – all kids.  He so enjoyed coaching little league football, baseball and lacrosse.  That’s when the idea for his present came
.
That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes, and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church.  On Christmas Eve, I placed a small, white envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done, and that this was his gift from me.  Mike’s smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year.  And that same bright smile lit up succeeding years.  For each Christmas, I followed the tradition – one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The white envelope became the highlight of our Christmas.  It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning, and our children – ignoring their new toys – would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.  As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the small, white envelope never lost its allure.

The story doesn’t end there.  You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer.  When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up.  But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree.  And the next morning, I found it was magically joined by three more.  Unbeknownst to the others, each of our three children had for the first time placed a white envelope on the tree for their dad.  The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing to take down the special envelope.  Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas spirit will always be with us.”    

For the Man Who Hated Christmas  (A true Christmas Story by Nancy W. Gavin, December 2015)
Shared by Ginny Marra
Best wishes for a Happy and Healthy New Year!!
Lisa Beretz, 518-330-9277