“Let your light so shine before men that they may see your moral excellence and your praiseworthy, noble, and good deeds and recognize and honor and praise and glorify your Father Who is in heaven” (Matthew 5:16, AMP)
Do the people around you see your light shining? Do they know you are a believer by your actions? Are you setting the bar in your office? Can people see your good works?
I know people who can quote half the Bible and pray two hours a day, but they have no influence or credibility because they’re sloppy in the workplace. They’re always late or wasting time. They’re not productive. They’re not efficient. No one will even listen to them.
I heard somebody say, “Your performance gives you a platform.” When you excel in what you do, that gets people’s attention. The way to gain respect, the way to gain influence is to develop your character and skills in such a way that people want what you have. They may not agree with what you believe, but when you are the best in your company, they can’t argue with that. You’ve earned their respect, not by your words, but by your spirit of excellence.
I encourage you today, don’t settle for mediocrity. You are a child of the Most High God. Make the decision today to let your light shine and bring Him glory in everything you do!
i’ve found my favourite
Yo, it’s CRAZY how I was just joking around with Rick today about how scary it would be to come across really buff aggressive gay dudes that wanted to force buttsex on us, then I said, “FUCK! GIRLS GO THROUGH THAT LIKE EVERY DAY!”
THE GOLDEN RULE OF TUMBLR
my god, we’re all Ross.
So in conclusion, we are all the men of Friends, combined.
Not just the men.
Phoebe is basically a walking night blogger when she’s got a guitar. Admit it.
In conclusion, we are the show Friends.
we all need this on our blogs
Anonymous said: Beyonce is very nice to her fans, but she is not always going to stop for every single person. When she is trying to do something normal like leave her hotel or go out to dinner, it is understandable that she does not stop or take pictures. She is very loving & giving towards her fans, but she is trying to live her life. Could you imagine if people that you don't know were constantly bothering you? It is hard, but you have to think about her as a person and let her have some privacy. That is all
I love you! These people who became fans a min ago think they have the right to have an opinion on her? Not today, Bring it the eff on!
This photo of a boy injured in an Israeli strike clinging to a medic at al-Shifa hospital went viral on the Internet.
Thursday night, 17 July, was the heaviest yet since Israel’s bombardment of Gaza began almost two weeks ago.
Dozens of people arrived to Gaza City’s al-Shifa hospital, where I was on shift that night. Some arrived torn to pieces, some beheaded, some disfigured beyond recognition, although still alive and breathing.
Seemingly indiscriminate artillery fire, a new element in Israel’s assault, had exacted a heavy toll on civilians.
The medical staff were lucky to get a break of less than half an hour. Some spent it watching the flares and bombs Israel was raining on the eastern neighborhoods of Gaza City, while others refueled with coffee or lay down for a few moments.
The relative calm did not last long. At around 3am, about eight or nine casualties arrived at the emergency room all at once. The last to come in were four siblings — two of them little children, both about three years old, with relatively superficial wounds. But it was clear they were pulled from under rubble, their faces and clothes covered in dirt and dust.
Then came the older of the four siblings, a boy in his early teens. His head and face were covered in blood and he was pressing a rag to his head to stanch the flow. But his focus was on something else: “Save my little brother!” he kept screaming.
The last to arrive was his brother, the child in the above photo that circulated around the world.
"I want my father!"
He was carried in by a paramedic and immediately rushed to the intensive care unit, which is right next to the ER. He clung to the paramedic, crying, “I want my father, bring me my father!” until he had to be forced to let go.
As I stood by, alert for orders, a group of four medical personnel immediately started to treat the boy. But he kept kicking and screaming and calling for his father.
His injuries were serious: a wound to the left side of his head which could indicate a skull fracture and a large piece of shrapnel in his neck. Another piece of shrapnel had penetrated his chest and a third had entered his abdomen. There were many smaller wounds all over his body.
Immediate measures had to be taken to save his life; he was sedated so the medics could get to work.
Upon carefully examining the wounds, it appeared that the explosion from the artillery round sent flying small pieces of stone from the walls of his house, and that some of his wounds were caused by these high-velocity projectiles.
He was extremely lucky: his neck injury was just an inch away from a major artery, his chest injury penetrated all the way through but failed to puncture his lung, and his abdomen was struck by shrapnel that just missed his bowel.
He had a stroke of luck denied to many that night.
The medics performed heroic measures in a remarkably short time, and the little boy’s life was saved.
Meanwhile in the emergency room, the elder brother was stitched up and the younger two siblings were washed and thoroughly examined for possible hidden injuries.
Somehow, despite the horror and the pain, they were sleeping. I don’t know how they did it, but I felt envious and grateful for the divine mercy that found its way to them.
Their brother with the most serious wounds will almost certainly survive, but with many scars and a difficult recovery period, both physical and psychological.
Too many casualties came in that night, too many for me to get this boy’s name, to know whether he was reunited with his father, or even what became of the rest of his family.
But there’s one thing that I know for sure, which is that hundreds of children just like him suffered similar or worse injuries, and up to the moment of this writing, nearly eighty children just like him have been killed as Israel’s merciless attack goes on.
Belal Dabour is a recently graduated doctor from Gaza, Palestine. He blogs at belalmd.wordpress.com.
Wow so sad
honestly my phone could give me as many warnings as it wants, but i will still wait until my battery dies before charging it
Marry a man who loves Jesus. Who loves God before he even knows that you exist. A man who falls to his knees, with tears in his eyes and hands held high, without a care to the world watching him. A man who knows that God is the best foundation in your relationship. A relationship that brings you each other closer to Him.
The man who loves Jesus will respect you. He’ll pursue you and treasure you. He won’t pressure you or control you, but gently walk beside you and lead you. He will appreciate you as the gift and beauty you are, and remind you of it every day. He will worship with you. He’ll pray for you and pray with you. He will lead you with strong hands, stand up when you can’t, but remind you that only God can satisfy.
I’m praying to find such a man. But first I have to be the kind of woman that my man is looking for. I should not only pray and wait for God to give me the best husband-to-be but I also need to let God work in me and transform me to be the best wife-to-be.
To my future husband, know that I’m always praying for you. Though we may still be nameless and faceless to each other, I believe that God has already engraved our love story which is His story in our hearts. And when His perfect time comes, we will see our story unfolds and becomes a beautiful testimony that indeed true love exists.♡♡♡