The Access Road

03/15/2019

The Ministry is hosting a casual après ski social at D'Ellies this Saturday, March 16th, from 4:30-5:30pm. Just drop by and say hello. We'll provide some warm snacks and drinks-you bring yourself and your smile. And a friend too would be awesome. This is an opportune time to bring someone who loves life but may not be sure about the whole "going to church" thing. Everybody loves a good after ski snack!

03/08/2019

Today's Access Road inspiration was sent in by a fellow traveler. There are no words; the message is powerful all on its own. Hope you enjoy it; then go live it!

03/02/2019

Who Packed Your Parachute?

Sometimes in the daily challenges that life gives us, we miss what is really important. We may fail to say hello, please, or thank you, congratulate someone on something wonderful that has happened to them, give a compliment, or just do something nice for no reason.
Charles Plumb, a US Naval Academy graduate, was a jet pilot in Vietnam. After 75 combat missions, his plane was destroyed by a surface-to-air missile. Plumb ejected and
parachuted into enemy lands. He was captured and spent 6 years in a communist Vietnamese
prison. He survived the ordeal and now lectures on lessons learned from that experience.
One day, when Plumb and his wife were sitting in a restaurant, a man at another table came up and said, "You're Plumb! You flew jet fighters in Vietnam from the aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk. You were shot down!" "How in the world did you know that?" asked Plumb. "I packed your parachute," the man replied.
Plumb gasped in surprise and gratitude. The man pumped his hand and said, "I guess it
worked!" Plumb assured him, "It sure did. If your chute hadn't worked, I wouldn't be here today."
Plumb couldn't sleep that night, thinking about that man. Plumb says, "I kept wondering what he might have looked like in a Navy uniform: A white hat, a bib in the back, and bell bottom trousers. I wonder how many times I might have seen him and not even said good morning, how are you or anything because, you see, I was a fighter pilot, and he was just a sailor."
Plumb thought of the many hours the sailor had spent on a long wooden table in the bowels of the ship, carefully weaving the shrouds and folding the silks of each chute, holding in his hands each time the fate of someone he didn't know.
Now, Plumb asks his audience, "Who's packing your parachute?"

Everyone has someone who provides what they need to make it through the day. Plumb
also points out that he needed many kinds of parachutes when his plane was shot down
over enemy territory - he needed his physical parachute, his mental parachute, his emotional
parachute, and his spiritual parachute. He called on all these supports before reaching safety. His
experience reminds us all to prepare ourselves to weather whatever storms lie ahead.
As you go through this week, this month ... recognize people who pack your parachute! Sit down right now and send an email, write a card, or pick up the phone and say a simple thank you to someone whose friendship “saves” you. Tell them this story and invite them to pass it on.

“Friends love through all kinds of weather, and families stick together in all kinds of trouble.” Proverbs 17:17

http://www.rogerknapp.com/inspire/parachute.htm

01/08/2019

Daily Reflections by Steve Garnaas-Holmes

01/05/2019

Dear Fellow Travelers on the Access,

We’re not the only ones out there trying to Bless those around us. Check out this true story published by Kind Spring entitled, “Pay-It-Forward Chain Reaction at a Restaurant”. Their motto is: Small Acts That Change the World.

My four grown children were all home visiting this weekend so we decided to go out for brunch. The centre of attention was my toddler granddaughter. She had never had pancakes before so we were excited about her trying them.
We always try to make our family meals special so this time we decided to order every kind of pancake they had and asked that they be served on one big family-style platter!
We each took turns digging in and also feeding it to the baby, who loved them. There was a lovely environment at the table and lots of smiles. As I was looking around the table, enjoying this wonderful scene, a gentleman at a nearby table caught my eye.
He was eating his breakfast alone quietly, in the corner. He frequently looked over and smiled as my granddaughter continued to entertain us all. Suddenly, I had a great idea.
I dug out a smile card* from the reserve that I always carry with me and snuck up to the waitress. I explained to her that I wanted to pay that man’s bill anonymously and that instead of the bill could she please give him the smile card.
Our leisurely breakfast was still going on after the gentleman had left. The waitress came over and told us that he had passed the smile card on and paid for another table before he left. How great!
Not only that though, the waitress then came back later and told us that the second table had now paid for someone else and passed the smile card on too!
I couldn’t believe it when the waitress came back and told us that the third table had done the same thing.
What was really amazing though, was that by the time we left, half the room had ended up paying for a different table! Isn’t that great?

* Want to learn more about Smile Cards? Go to https://www.kindspring.org/smilecards/
I have printed some and have them available at the church office. I can also mail you some if you like-just let me know!

https://www.kindspring.org/story/view.php?sid=18183

12/10/2018

Merry Christmas to my fellow travelers on the Access Road!

Here’s another Christmas story for you to reflect on, and, if you are daring, to allow it to change your life. Read through to the end to find my personal story of this Truth.

Bobby’s Gift

Bobby was getting cold sitting out in his back yard in the snow. Bobby didn't wear boots; he didn't like them and anyway he didn't own any. The thin sneakers he wore had a few holes in them and they did a poor job of keeping out the cold.

Bobby had been in his backyard for about an hour already. And, try as he might, he could not come up with an idea for his mother's Christmas gift. He shook his head as he thought, "This is useless, even if I do come up with an idea, I don't have any money to spend.

Ever since his father had passed away three years ago, the family of five had struggled. It wasn't because his mother didn't care, or try, there just never seemed to be enough. She worked nights at the hospital, but the small wage that she was earning could only be stretched so far.

What the family lacked in money and material things, they more than made up for in love and family unity. Bobby had two older and one younger sister, who ran the household in their mother's absence.

All three of his sisters had already made beautiful gifts for their mother. Somehow it just wasn't fair. Here it was Christmas Eve already, and he had nothing.

Wiping a tear from his eye, Bobby kicked the snow and started to walk down to the street where the shops and stores were. It wasn't easy being six without a father, especially when he needed a man to talk to.

Bobby walked from shop to shop, looking into each decorated window. Everything seemed so beautiful and so out of reach. It was starting to get dark and Bobby reluctantly turned to walk home when suddenly his eyes caught the glimmer of the setting sun's rays reflecting off of something along the curb. He reached down and discovered a shiny dime.

Never before has anyone felt so wealthy as Bobby felt at that moment. As he held his new found treasure, a warmth spread throughout his entire body and he walked into the first store he saw. His excitement quickly turned cold when salesperson after salesperson told him that he could not buy anything with only a dime.

He saw a flower shop and went inside to wait in line. When the shop owner asked if he could help him, Bobby presented the dime and asked if he could buy one flower for his mother's Christmas gift. The shop owner looked at Bobby and his ten cent offering. Then he put his hand on Bobby's shoulder and said to him, "You just wait here and I'll see what I can do for you."

As Bobby waited, he looked at the beautiful flowers and even though he was a boy, he could see why mothers and girls liked flowers. The sound of the door closing as the last customer left, jolted Bobby back to reality. All alone in the shop, Bobby began to feel alone and afraid.

Suddenly the shop owner came out and moved to the counter. There, before Bobby's eyes, lay twelve long stem, red roses, with leaves of green and tiny white flowers all tied together with a big silver bow. Bobby's heart sank as the owner picked them up and placed them gently into a long white box.

"That will be ten cents young man," the shop owner said reaching out his hand for the dime. Slowly, Bobby moved his hand to give the man his dime. Could this be true? No one else would give him a thing for his dime! Sensing the boy's reluctance, the shop owner added, "I just happened to have some roses on sale for ten cents a dozen. Would you like them?"

This time Bobby did not hesitate, and when the man placed the long box into his hands, he knew it was true. Walking out the door that the owner was holding for Bobby, he heard the shop keeper say, "Merry Christmas, son."

As he returned inside, the shop keepers wife walked out. "Who were you talking to back there and where are the roses you were fixing?" Staring out the window, and blinking the tears from his own eyes, he replied, "A strange thing happened to me this morning. While I was setting up things to open the shop, I thought I heard a voice telling me to set aside a dozen of my best roses for a special gift. I wasn't sure at the time whether I had lost my mind or what, but I set them aside anyway. Then just a few minutes ago, a little boy came into the shop and wanted to buy a flower for his mother with one small dime.

When I looked at him, I saw myself, many years ago. I too was a poor boy with nothing to buy my mother a Christmas gift. A bearded man, whom I never knew, stopped me on the street and told me that he wanted to give me ten dollars. When I saw that little boy tonight, I knew who that voice was, and I put together a dozen of my very best roses."

The shop owner and his wife hugged each other tightly, and as they stepped out into the bitter cold air, they somehow didn't feel cold at all.
http://www.rogerknapp.com/inspire/bobby.htm

Pam’s personal story: Many years ago, not long after we began our ministry in Maine, I was standing in the produce section of the Hannaford in Farmington. A woman walked up to me, a person a knew- though not well. I knew her well enough to know, however, that she had had a rough life, an uphill climb. Nevertheless, she came up to me and handed me a $20-dollar bill announcing that God had told her to give it me with His love. At the time, Earle and I were job-sharing and substitute teaching to fill in the gaps. I will never forget the serene look on her face as my eyes turned blurry. Then and there I committed myself to learning the secret joy of giving. It has changed my life. She changed my life. Her name was Grace.

There is more happiness in giving than in receiving. Acts 20:35

Send a message to learn more

12/05/2018

A Christmas Story for the Man Who Hated Christmas

Here is this week’s installment of Access Road Reflections. I’ve chosen a Christmas story that I hope might impact how you choose to celebrate the season. Maybe this will become a new tradition in your family?! May it encourage you to live and bless others right where you are.

If this story encourages you please come join us to find out more about living intentionally and blessing as you are right where you are.
Pam

Christmas Story: For the Man Who Hated Christmas
By Nancy W. Gavin

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 that special envelope.

Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit will always be with us.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
-Found in a letter that Paul, a follower of Jesus, wrote to his friends
Philippians 4:8

https://www.wanttoknow.info/i/christmas-stories/meaning-of-christmas

11/14/2018

Important Question

During my second month of nursing school, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions, until I read the last one: 'What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?" Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50s, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank.
Before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. Absolutely, said the professor. "In your careers you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say hello". I've never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.

Who’s name do you need to learn today?

Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.
-Paul, follower of Jesus, Philippians 2:3-4
For more on this topic read the entire chapter of Philippians 2

Roger Knapp home, genealogy, boyscout, quotes, recipes, medical information.

11/03/2018

A Story To Live By

by Ann Wells (Los Angeles Times)

My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," he said, "is not a slip. This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached. "Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion." He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands
I lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. "Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."
I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister's family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special.
I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life. I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.
I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom.
I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends'.
"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I'm not sure what my sister would have done had she known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I'm guessing-I'll never know.
It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good Friends whom I was going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write-one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them. I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives.
And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special.

Every day, every minute, every breath truly is...a gift from God.

“I came so that they could have life – yes, and have it full to overflowing.” Jesus

Roger Knapp home, genealogy, boyscout, quotes, recipes, medical information.

10/13/2018

Would you like to change the world but don’t think you can? Don’t have a clue how to start? Are you tired of the Silo Effect that threatens to fracture our communities as we retreat into our corners? Do you want to flourish?

Anyone can take The Access Road and B.L.E.S.S.S. right where they are. Bless: make a commitment to bless one family member and one “neighbor” every week. Practice random acts of kindness and enjoy the smiles. Listen: take time every day to breathe with gratitude and listen for God’s love breaking in. Eat: challenge yourself to eat (or at least have coffee) with a “neighbor” once a week, broadening your circle of care beyond your buddies. Study: read and ponder the positive stories sent via email or at our page and see how they change your perspective about life and living. We all need more encouragement to live splendidly. Send: get out there and bloom where you’re planted, using your gifts for good. Share: let others know, via Facebook, what happens when you try these things.

If you haven’t guessed yet, taking the Access Road changes the world by first changing us-our habits and our routines. Join the adventure by sending us a Facebook message. This will get you a weekly inspirational email and a way to hear about our yearend party. Then follow us on page to connect with others taking this adventure this winter season. Join in anytime-like now! A party is in the works for the end of March at Sugarloaf for all who joined this quest to make a difference.