If I Can Stop One Heart from Breaking

If I can stop one heart from breaking,


I shall not live in vain;


If I can ease one life the aching,


Or cool one pain,


Or help one fainting robin


Unto his nest again,


I shall not live in vain.

By dissecting this poem, we discover:

• “Stop one heart from breaking.” 
As caregivers, preventing heartbreaks is an impossible task.
• “Ease one life from aching.” 
Compared to the previous line, easing someone’s suffering is possible.
• “Cool one pain.” 
Pain is described as hot.
• “Help one fainting robin unto his nest again”- help someone who is lost find their way.
• “Shall not live in vain.” 
As caregivers, our work is not in vain if we follow the basic themes in this poem.

These Roses under My Window

These roses under my window make no reference to former roses or to better ones. They are for what the are; they exist with God today.

There is no time to them, There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. Before a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower, there is no more; in the leafless root, there is no less.

Its nature is satisfies, and it satisfies nature, in all moments alike. There is no time to it. But man postpones or remembers; he does not live in the present, but with reverted eye laments the past, or heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on tiptoe to foresee the future.

He cannot be happy and strong until he, too, lives with nature in the present, above time.

With an Open Heart 

I've learned that whenever I decide something with and open heart, I usually make the right decision. I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one. I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. 

People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I've learned that I still have a lot to learn. I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. 

Blinded By Fear

So often I find myself fretting, worrying, anxious, afraid, asking God: “Am I where I’m supposed to be?” “Am I on the right track?” “Are you there?” Looking, searching out there, outside myself, for an answer for affirmation.  

But, then there’s a flicker of a thought, an unsettling, but wonderful thought: Maybe these very fears, anxieties and panicked questions are themselves the very scales over my eyes that blind me to the possibilities that I’m where I’m supposed to be; that the answers I seek are not ‘out there,’ but within me, and that there’s no right path but only my path.  

So I begin to consider that maybe the better prayer would not be the one filled with anxious questions, but rather one of request: God help me not be so anxious; help me to always see the potential you see in me.