HOW LONG CAN YOU HOLD ON?

(Inspiring Life Story of OLAKUNLE SORIYAN)http://www.linkedin.com/in/olakunlesoriyan

About two decades ago, Kunle Soriyan was filled with excitement as he got ready to sit for his degree exams and earn his Bachelor of Science honors. But there was a huge problem; he was a deadly cult boy and the university had found out.

Soon enough, just before his final exams, news got to him: he had been expelled from The University of Lagos.

He gladly went his way, and didn’t break a sweat. A drug addict and scoundrel, Kunle wandered around with his gun. He eventually met a man who preached Christ to him; he got born again, denounced cultism and parted ways with his gun and corrupt life.

He applied for admission with the same university he was expelled and got an offer. He became a pastor and worked hard to maintain a good GPA but could not graduate at the set time; somehow, the university administration still doubted he was a changed man.

Kunle applied for an admission a third time, despite having spent eight year trying to earn a four-year degree. He endured the shame and disdain; being the oldest man in the midst of much younger, high-spirited students who often ridiculed him. And after another four years (making a total of twelve years), Kunle finally graduated.

It’s a wonder what would have happened to Kunle had he not turned back to understand the value of life and pay the price to be educated because today; he is a multi-millionaire, action coach and one of the foremost motivational speakers and mentors Nigeria has seen in recent times.

Olakunle Soriyan is now the Principal Transformation Strategist of the OLAKUNLE SORIYAN COMPANY ,a Total Life Management (TLM) and Nation Building, Training and Consulting Firm. The company works with leaders of various arms of Government and NGO's as well as Business and Institutional leaders at all levels, using original, home grown research and principle based methodologies. Soriyan serves on the Board of various organizations, and is a philosopher, Trainer and Consultant of high pedigree. The personal Advisor and coach to many high-net worth individuals (HNI) and organizations, promotes ORIGINALITY as a critical pathway to PURPOSEFULNESS at any level of development.

The road to success is a long drive up a rocky hill.

Everybody likes the byproduct of success, but not many people hold on enough to make it through. It’s scarcely a smooth sail and will never be.

If you are headed on the road to succeed, you’ll most likely do it alone. This is a path where each person bears his burden as he plods along, not knowing how far or close he is to the end of the tunnel. It’s not a dance in the rain.

After Jack Hansen formed a partnership and completed his book; he was so optimistic that the book would sell and so he wasn’t too discouraged when the first publishing house threw his manuscript out the window.

He was sure of his book, so he decided to try someplace else. The same thing happened. Little did he know that he was only at the beginning of a slew of rejections to come; the book was rejected for 138 times more.

Somehow he found the nerve to try again. One last time and that was it. It was accepted by a publisher and the moment copies were made available, sales began.

The manuscript that was rejected 140 times ended up as a book that sold over 100 million copies and remains one of the bestsellers in the US.

Success doesn’t come swiftly or softly as we often expect.

When John Roebling started out with the Brooklyn Bridge, America and the larger world almost laughed him to silence.

Everybody knew him as a skilled bridge builder but his plan to build East River was a plunge headlong into the impossible. It wasn’t just a river; it was an estuary prone to tidal disturbances or turbulence.

The criticisms and mockery mounted when a canoe accident eventually left him paralyzed.

Roebling did not let his paralysis kill his dream; he soon devised a means to communicate his ideas to his wife as he could not execute them himself.

After years and years of drudgery, the same critics who raised their voices against Roebling’s structure plan, claiming East River would collapse, joined all of America and the World to celebrate the wonder of science of their time and longest bridge America had ever seen, even though Roebling did not live to see it. And what was scorned as a process in error is one of the many monuments America prides itself in today.

If we must succeed, we must also learn to tarry in patience while success crawls towards us.

Many of life’s failures are experienced by people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up ~Thomas Edison

I put it to you, how long can you hold on while toiling and hoping for success?

NEVER GIVE UP IN LIFE

Unlike Carl Lewis and Daley Thompson, Derek Redmond is not a name that conjures up memories of Olympic gold medals. But it is Redmond who defines the essence of the human spirit.

Redmond arrived at the 1992 Olympic Summer Games in Barcelona determined to win a medal in the 400. The color of the medal was meaningless; he just wanted to win one. Just one.

He had been forced to withdraw from the 400 at the 1988 Games in Seoul, only 10 minutes before the race, because of an Achilles tendon injury. He then underwent five surgeries over the next year. This was the same runner who had shattered the British 400-meter record at age 19. So when the 1992 Games arrived, this was his time, his moment, his stage, to show the world how good he was and who he was.

Derek's father Jim had accompanied him to Barcelona, just as he did for all world competitions. They were as close as a father and son could be. Inseparable, really. The best of friends. When Derek ran, it was as if his father were running right next to him.

THE MOMENT
The day of the race arrives. Father and son reminisce about what it took for Derek to get to this point. They talk about ignoring past heartbreaks, past failures. They agree that if anything bad happens, no matter what it is, Derek has to finish the race, period.

The top four finishers in each of the two semifinal heats qualify for the Olympic final. As race time approaches for the semifinal 400 heat, Jim heads up to his seat at the top of Olympic Stadium, not far from where the Olympic torch was lit just a few days earlier. He is wearing a T-shirt that reads, "Have you hugged your foot today?"

With the help of his father, an injured Derek Redmond completed his race in the 1992 Olympics.

The stadium is packed with 65,000 fans, bracing themselves for one of sport's greatest and most exciting spectacles. The race begins and Redmond breaks from the pack and quickly seizes the lead. "Keep it up, keep it up," Jim says to himself.

Down the backstretch, only 175 meters away from finishing, Redmond is a shoo-in to make the finals. Suddenly, he hears a pop. In his right hamstring. He pulls up lame, as if he had been shot.

"Oh, no," Jim says to himself. His face pales. His leg quivering, Redmond begins hopping on one leg, then slows down and falls to the track. As he lays on the track, clutching his right hamstring, a medical personnel unit runs toward him. At the same time, Jim Redmond, seeing his son in trouble, races down from the top row of the stands, sidestepping people, bumping into others. He has no credential to be on the track, but all he thinks about is getting to his son, to help him up. "I wasn't going to be stopped by anyone," he later tells the media.

On the track, Redmond realizes his dream of an Olympic medal is gone. Tears run down his face. "All I could think was, 'I'm out of the Olympics -- again,'" he would say.

As the medical crew arrives with a stretcher, Redmond tells them, "No, there's no way I'm getting on that stretcher. I'm going to finish my race."

Then, in a moment that will live forever in the minds of millions, Redmond lifts himself to his feet, ever so slowly, and starts hobbling down the track. The other runners have finished the race, with Steve Lewis of the U.S. winning the contest in 44.50. Suddenly, everyone realizes that Redmond isn't dropping out of the race by hobbling off to the side of the track. No, he is actually continuing on one leg. He's going to attempt to hobble his way to the finish line. All by himself. All in the name of pride and heart.

Slowly, the crowd, in total disbelief, rises and begins to roar. The roar gets louder and louder. Through the searing pain, Redmond hears the cheers, but "I wasn't doing it for the crowd," he would later say. "I was doing it for me. Whether people thought I was an idiot or a hero, I wanted to finish the race. I'm the one who has to live with it."

One painful step at a time, each one a little slower and more painful than the one before, his face twisted with pain and tears, Redmond limps onward, and the crowd, many in tears, cheer him on.

Suddenly, Jim Redmond finally gets to the bottom of the stands, leaps over the railing, avoids a security guard, and runs out to his son, with two security people chasing after him. "That's my son out there," he yells back to security, "and I'm going to help him."

Finally, with Derek refusing to surrender and painfully limping along the track, Jim reaches his son at the final curve, about 120 meters from the finish, and wraps his arm around his waist.

"I'm here, son," Jim says softly, hugging his boy. "We'll finish together." Derek puts his arms around his father's shoulders and sobs.

Together, arm in arm, father and son, with 65,000 people cheering, clapping and crying, finish the race, just as they vowed they would. A couple steps from the finish line, and with the crowd in an absolute frenzy, Jim releases the grip he has on his son, so Derek could cross the finish line by himself. Then he throws his arms around Derek again, both crying, along with everyone in the stands and on TV.

"I'm the proudest father alive," he tells the press afterwards, tears in his eyes. "I'm prouder of him than I would have been if he had won the gold medal. It took a lot of guts for him to do what he did.

Something to think About

A great note for all to read it will take just 37 seconds to read this and change your thinking.

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.
 As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by.

Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days and weeks passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.

He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.
It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.

The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.
She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."

Epilogue:

There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations.
Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.
If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.

"Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present."

GRACE

 The boy stood with back arched, head cocked back and hands clenched defiantly.  "Go ahead, give it to me."
The principal looked down at the young rebel.  "How many times have you been here?"
The child sneered rebelliously, "Apparently not enough."
The principal gave the boy a strange look.  "And you have been punished each time have you not?"
"Yeah, I’ve been punished, if that's what you want to call it."  He threw out his small chest, "Go ahead I can take whatever you dish out.  I always have."
"And no thought of your punishment enters your head the next time you decide to break the rules does it?"
"Nope, I do whatever I want to do.  Ain't nothin you people gonna do to stop me either."
The principal looked over at the teacher who stood nearby.  "What did he do this time?"
"Fighting.  He took little Tommy and shoved his face into the sandbox."
The principal turned to look at the boy, "Why?  What did little Tommy do to you?"
"Nothin, I didn't like the way he was lookin at me, just like I don't like the way you’re lookin at me!  And if I thought I could do it, I'd shove your face into something."
The teacher stiffened and started to rise but a quick look from the principal stopped him.  He contemplated the child for a moment and then quietly said, "Today my young student, is the day you learn about grace."
"Grace?  Isn't that what you old people do before you sit down to eat? I don't need none of your stinkin grace."
"Oh, but you do."  The principal studied the young mans face and whispered.  "Oh yes, you truly do..."  The boy continued to glare as the principal continued, "Grace, in its short definition is unmerited favour. You cannot earn it; it is a gift and is always freely given.  It means that you will not be getting what you so richly deserve."
The boy looked puzzled.  "Your not gonna whup me? You just gonna let me
walk?"
The principal looked down at the unyielding child.  "Yes, I am going to let you walk."
The boy studied the face of the principal, "No punishment at all?  Even though I socked Tommy and shoved his face into the sandbox?"
"Oh, there has to be punishment.  What you did was wrong and there are always consequences to our actions.  There will be punishment.  Grace is not an excuse for doing wrong."
"I knew it," Sneered the boy as he held out his hands.  "Lets get on with it."
The principal nodded toward the teacher.  "Bring me the belt."  The teacher presented the belt to the principal.  He carefully folded it in two and then handed it back to the teacher.  He looked at the child and said.  "I want you to count the blows."
He slid out from behind his desk and walked over to stand directly in front of the young man.  He gently reached out and folded the child's outstretched, expectant hands together and then turned to face the teacher with his own hands outstretched.
One quiet word came forth from his mouth.  "Begin."  The belt whipped down on the outstretched hands of the principal.
Crack!  The young man jumped ten feet in the air.  Shock registered across his face, "One" he whispered.  Crack!  "Two."  His voice raised an octave.  Crack! "Three...” He couldn't believe this.  Crack! "Four."  Big tears welled up in the eyes of the rebel.  "OK stop! That's enough.  Stop!" Crack!  Came the belt down on the callused hands
of the principal.
Crack!  The child flinched with each blow, tears beginning to stream down his face.  Crack!  Crack!  "No please", the former rebel begged, "Stop, I did it, I'm the one who deserves it.  Stop!  Please.  Stop..." Still the blows came, Crack!  Crack!  One after another.
Finally it was over.
The principal stood with sweat glistening across his forehead and beads trickling down his face.  Slowly he knelt down. He studied the young man for a second and then his swollen hands reached out to cradle the face of the weeping child.

"Grace..."

A love Story

"A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter; he who finds one finds a treasure. A faithful friend is beyond price, no sum can balance his worth. A faithful friend is a life-saving remedy…"

A LOVE STORY
One day, I woke early in the morning to watch the sunrise. Ah the beauty of God's creation is beyond description. As I watched, I praised God for His beautiful work. As I sat there, I felt the Lord's presence with me.
He asked me, "Do you love me?"
I answered, "Of course, God! You are my Lord and Saviour!"
Then He asked, "If you were physically handicapped, would you still love me?"
I was perplexed. I looked down upon my arms, legs and the rest of my body and wondered how many things I wouldn't; be able to do, the things that I took for granted.
And I answered, "It would be tough Lord, but I would still love You."
Then the Lord said, "If you were blind, would you still love my creation?" How could I love something without being able to see it? Then I thought of all the blind people in the world and how many of them still loved God and His creation.

So I answered, "Its hard to think of it, but I would still love you."

The Lord then asked me, "If you were deaf, would you still listen to my word?" How could I listen to anything being deaf?

Then I understood. Listening to God's Word is not merely using our ears, but our hearts.

I answered, "It would be tough, but I would still listen to Your word."

The Lord then asked, "If you were mute, would you still praise My Name?"

How could I praise without a voice? Then it occurred to me: God wants us to sing from our very heart and soul. It never matters what we sound like. And praising God is not always with a song, but when we are persecuted, we give God praise with our words of thanks.

So I answered, "Though I could not physically sing, I would still praise Your Name."

And the Lord asked, "Do you really love Me?"

With courage and a strong conviction, I answered boldly, "Yes Lord! I love You because You are the one and true God!"

I thought I had answered well, but God asked, "THEN WHY DO YOU SIN?"

I answered, "Because I am only human. I am not perfect."

"THEN WHY IN TIMES OF PEACE DO YOU STRAY THE FURTHEST? WHY ONLY IN TIMES OF TROUBLE DO YOU PRAY THE EARNEST?"

No answers. Only tears.

The Lord continued: "Why only sing at fellowships and retreats? Why seek Me only in times of worship? Why ask things so selfishly? Why ask things so unfaithfully?"

The tears continued to roll down my cheeks.

"Why are you ashamed of Me? Why are you not spreading the good news? Why in times of persecution, you cry to others when I offer My shoulder to cry on? Why make excuses when I give you opportunities to serve in My Name?"

I tried to answer, but there was no answer to give.

"You are blessed with life. I made you not to throw this gift away. I have blessed you with talents to serve Me, but you continue to turn away. I have revealed My Word to you, but you do not gain in knowledge. I have spoken to you but your ears were closed. I have shown My blessings to you, but your eyes were turned away. I have sent you servants, but you sat idly by as they were pushed away. I have heard your prayers and I have answered them all."

DO YOU TRULY LOVE ME ?"

I could not answer. How could I? I was embarrassed beyond belief. I had no excuse. What could I say to this? My heart had cried out and the tears had flowed, I said, Please forgive me Lord. I am unworthy to be Your child."

The Lord answered, " That is My Grace, My child."

I asked, " Then why do you continue to forgive me? Why do You love me so?"

The Lord answered, "Because you are My creation. You are my child. I will never abandon you. When you cry, I will have compassion and cry with you. When you shout with joy, I will laugh with you. When you are down, I will encourage you. When you fall, I will raise you up. When you are tired, I will carry you. I will be with you till the end of days, and I will love you forever."

Never had I cried so hard before. How could I have been so cold? How could I have hurt God as I had done?

I asked God, "How much do You love me?"
The Lord stretched out His arms, and I saw His nail-pierced hands. I bowed down at the feet of Christ, my Saviour. And for the first time, I truly prayed.

Imagine What May Have Taken Place On That Day

He placed one scoop of clay upon another until a form lay lifeless on the ground. All of the Garden's inhabitants paused to witness the event. Hawks hovered. Giraffes stretched. Trees bowed. Butterflies paused on petals and watched. "You will love me, nature," God said. "I made you that way. You will obey me, universe. For you were designed to do so. You will reflect my glory, skies, for that is how you were created. But this one will be like me. This one will be able to choose." All were silent as the Creator reached into himself and removed something yet unseen. A seed. "it's called 'choice.' The seed of choice." Creation stood in silence and gazed upon the lifeless form. An angel spoke, "But what if he …" "What if he chooses not to love?" the Creator finished. "Come, I will show you." Unbound by today, God and the angel walked into the realm of tomorrow. "There, see the fruit of the seed of choice, both the sweet and the bitter." The angel gasped at what he saw. Spontaneous love. Voluntary devotion. Chosen tenderness. Never had he seen anything like these. He felt the love of the Adams. He heard the joy of Eve and her daughters. He saw the food and the burdens shared. He absorbed the kindness and marveled at the warmth. "Heaven has never seen such beauty, my Lord. Truly, this is your greatest creation." "Ah, but you've only seen the sweet. Now witness the bitter." A stench enveloped the pair. The angel turned in horror and proclaimed, "What is it?" The Creator spoke only one word: "Selfishness." The angel stood speechless as they passed through centuries of repugnance. Never had he seen such filth. Rotten hearts. Ruptured promises. Forgotten loyalties. Children of the creation wandering blindly in lonely labyrinths. "This is the result of choice? the angel asked. "Yes." "They will forget you?" "Yes." "They will reject you?" "Yes." They will never come back? "Some will. Most won't." "What will it take to make them listen?" The Creator walked on in time, further and further into the future, until he stood by a tree. A tree that would be fashioned into a cradle. Even then he could smell the hay that would surround him. With another step into the future, he paused before another tree. It stood alone, a stubborn ruler on a bald hill. The trunk was thick, and the wood was strong. Soon it would be cut. Soon it would be trimmed. Soon it would be mounted on the stony brow of another hill. And soon he would be hung on it. He felt the wood rub against a back he did not yet wear. "Will you go down there?" the angel asked. "I will." "Is there no other way?" "There is not." "Wouldn't it be easier to not plant the seed? Wouldn't it be easier to not give the choice?" "It would," the Creator spoke slowly. "But to remove the choice is to remove the love." He look around the hill and foresaw a scene. Three figures hung on three crosses. Arms spread. Heads fallen forward. They moaned with the wind. Men clad in soldier's garb sat on the ground near the trio. They played games in the dirt and laughed. Men clad in religion stood off to one side. They smiled. Arrogant, cocky. They had protected God, they thought by killing this false one. Women clad in sorrow huddled at the foot of the hill. Speechless. Faces tear streaked. Eyes downward. One put her arm around another and tried to lead her away. She wouldn't leave. "I will stay," she said softly, "I will stay." All heaven stood to fight. All nature rose to rescue. All eternity poised to protect. But the Creator gave no command. "It must be done…," he said, and withdrew. But as he stepped in time, he heard the cry that he would someday scream: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" He wrenched at tomorrow's agony. The angel spoke again. "I would be less painful…" The Creator interrupted softly. "But it wouldn't be love." They stepped into the Garden again. The Maker looked earnestly at the clay creation. A monsoon of love swelled up within him. He had died for the creation before he had made him. God's form bent over the sculptured face and breathed. Dust stirred on the lips of the new one. The chest rose, cracking the red mud. The cheeks fleshened. A finger moved. And an eye opened. But more incredible than the moving of the flesh was the stirring of the spirit. Those who could see the unseen gasped. Perhaps it was the wind who said it first. Perhaps what the star saw that moment is what has made it blink ever since. Maybe it was left to an angel to whisper it: "It looks like … it appears to so much like … it is him!" The angel wasn't speaking of the face, the features, or the body. He was looking inside - at the soul. "It's eternal!" gasped another. Within the man, God has placed a divine seed. A seed of his self. The God of might had created earth's mightiest. The Creator had created, not a creature, but another creator. And the One who had chosen to love had created one who could love in return. Now it's our choice.

Share Your Time

A man came home from work late again, tired and irritated, to find his 5 year old son waiting for him at the door. "Daddy, may I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, sure, what is it?" replied the man.

"Daddy, how much money do you make an hour?

"That's none of your business! What makes you ask such a thing?" the man said angrily.

"I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?" pleaded the little boy.

"If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour."

"Oh," the little boy replied, head bowed. Looking up, he said, "Daddy, may I borrow $10.00 please?"

The father was furious. "If the only reason you wanted to know how much money I make is just so you can borrow some to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you're being so selfish. I work long, hard hours everyday and don't have time for such childish games."

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. The man sat down and started to get even madder about the little boy's questioning. How dare him ask such questions only to get some money.

After an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think he may have been a little hard on his son. Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $10.00, and he really didn't ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door. "Are you asleep son?" he asked.

"No daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy.

"I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier," said the man. "It's been a long day and I took my aggravation out on you. Here's that $10.00 you asked for."

The little boy sat straight up, beaming. "Oh, thank you daddy!" he yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow, he pulled out some more crumpled up bills. The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at the man.

"Why did you want more money if you already had some?" the father grumbled.

"Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy replied.

"Daddy, I have $20.00 now. Can I buy an hour of your time?"

Share some time with those who need you.
They need our time more then we will ever know.

THE BRIDGE BUILDER

An old man, going a lone highway,

Came, at the evening, cold and gray,

To a chasm, vast, and deep, and wide,

Through which was flowing a sullen tide.

The old man crossed in the twilight dim;

The sullen stream had no fears for him;

But he turned, when safe on the other side,

And built a bridge to span the tide.

"Old man," said a fellow pilgrim, near,

"You are wasting strength with building here;

Your journey will end with the ending day;

You never again must pass this way;

You have crossed the chasm, deep and wide-

Why build you a bridge at the eventide?"

The builder lifted his old gray head:

"Good friend, in the path I have come," he said,

"There followeth after me today,

A youth, whose feet must pass this way.

This chasm, that has been naught to me,

To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.

He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;

Good friend, I am building the bridge for him."

THE THREE TREES

Once there were three trees on a hill in the woods. They were discussing their hopes and dreams when the first tree said, "Someday I hope to be a treasure chest. I could be filled with gold, silver and precious gems. I could be decorated with intricate carving and everyone would see the beauty."

Then the second tree said, "Someday I will be a mighty ship. I will take kings and queens across the waters and sail to the corners of the world. Everyone will feel safe in me because of the strength of my hull."

Finally the third tree said, "I want to grow to be the tallest and straightest tree in the forest. People will see me on top of the hill and look up to my branches, and think of the heavens and God and how close to them I am reaching. I will be the greatest tree of all time and people will always remember me."

After a few years of praying that their dreams would come true, a group of woodsmen came upon the trees. When one came to the first tree he said, "This looks like a strong tree, I think I should be able to sell the wood to a carpenter" ... and he began cutting it down. The tree was happy, because he knew that the carpenter would make him into a treasure chest.

At the second tree a woodsman said, "This looks like a strong tree, I should be able to sell it to the shipyard." The second tree was happy because he knew he was on his way to becoming a mighty ship.

When the woodsmen came upon the third tree, the tree was frightened because he knew that if they cut him down his dreams would not come true. One of the woodsmen said, "I don't need anything special from my tree so I'll take this one", and he cut it down.

When the first tree arrived at the carpenters, he was made into a feed box for animals. He was then placed in a barn and filled with hay. This was not at all what he had prayed for. The second tree was cut and made into a small fishing boat. His dreams of being a mighty ship and carrying kings had come to an end. The third tree was cut into large pieces and left alone in the dark. The years went by, and the trees forgot about their dreams.

Then one day, a man and woman came to the barn. She gave birth and they placed the baby in the hay in the feed box that was made from the first tree. The man wished that he could have made a crib for the baby, but this manger would have to do. The tree could feel the importance of this event and knew that it had held the greatest treasure of all time. Years later, a group of men got in the fishing boat made from the second tree. One of them was tired and went to sleep. While they were out on the water, a great storm arose and the tree didn't think it was strong enough to keep the men safe. The men woke the sleeping man, and he stood and said "Peace" and the storm stopped. At this time, the tree knew that it had carried the King of Kings in its boat.

Finally, someone came and got the third tree. It was carried through the streets as the people mocked the man who was carrying it. When they came to a stop, the man was nailed to the tree and raised in the air to die at the top of a hill. When Sunday came, the tree came to realize that it was strong enough to stand at the top of the hill and be as close to God as was possible, because Jesus had been crucified on it.

The moral of this story is that when things don't seem to be going your way, always know that God has a plan for you. If you place your trust in Him, He will give you great gifts. Each of the trees got what they wanted, just not in the way they had imagined. We don't always know what God's plans are for us. We just know that His ways are not our ways, but His ways are always best

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Just4real...

Email:just4real_ng@yahoo.com

+2348053418607 

"There is little difference in people, but that little difference makes a big difference. The little difference is attitude. The big difference is whether it is positive or negative." W. Clement Stone