[triadtechtalk] Re: TGIF -

  • From: Armando Barreiro <avbsantos@xxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: triadtechtalk@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Fri, 4 Apr 2008 15:02:45 -0500 (GMT-05:00)

Glad you liked it. My online friend Susan sent that on Thursday.

I previously sent her your "Sparrow at Starbucks". She loved it.

She's been ailing and hurting something awful but tries to keep her good 
spirits.
Diverticulitis - that's awful.

Bless you and yours. Say Hi! to Donna for me.

Love,
Armando

Mar 7, 2008 12:34 PM
I know you've all probably read this as I have, but maybe you can take time to 
read it again sometime.
 
 

THE SPARROW AT STARBUCK'S

(The song that silenced the cappuccino machine)

by John Thomas Oaks

 

It was chilly in Manhattan but warm inside the Starbucks shop on 51st Street 
and Broadway, just a skip up from Times Square . Early November weather in New 
York City holds only the slightest hint of the bitter chill of late December 
and January, but it's enough to send the masses crowding indoors to vie for 
available space and warmth.

 

For a musician, it's the most lucrative Starbucks location in the world, I'm 
told, and consequently, the tips can be substantial if you play your tunes 
right. Apparently, we were striking all the right chords that night, because 
our basket was almost overflowing.

 

It was a fun, low-pressure gig - I was playing keyboard and singing backup for 
my friend who also added rhythm with an arsenal of percussion instruments. We 
mostly did pop songs from the '40s to the '90s with a few original tunes thrown 
in. During our emotional rendition of the classic, "If You Don't Know Me by 
Now," I noticed a lady sitting in one of the lounge chairs across from me. She 
was swaying to the beat and singing along.

 

After the tune was over, she approached me. "I apologize for singing along on 
that song. Did it bother you?" she asked.

 

"No," I replied. "We love it when the audience joins in. Would you like to sing 
up front on the next selection?"

 

To my delight, she accepted my invitation.

 

"You choose," I said. "What are you in the mood to sing?"

 

"Well. .. do you know any hymns?"

 

Hymns? This woman didn't know who she was dealing with. I cut my teeth on 
hymns. Before I was even born, I was going to church. I gave our guest singer a 
knowing look. "Name one."

 

"Oh, I don't know. There are so many good ones. You pick one."

 

"Okay," I replied. "How about 'His Eye is on the Sparrow'?"

 

My new friend was silent, her eyes averted. Then she fixed her eyes on mine 
again and said, "Yeah. Let's do that one."

 

She slowly nodded her head, put down her purse, straightened her jacket and 
faced the center of the shop. With my two-bar setup, she began to sing.

 

Why should I be discouraged?

 

Why should the shadows come?

 

The audience of coffee drinkers was transfixed. Even the gurgling noises of the 
cappuccino machine ceased as the employees stopped what they were doing to 
listen. The song rose to its conclusion.

 

I sing because I'm happy;

 

I sing because I'm free.

 

For His eye is on the sparrow

 

And I know He watches me.

 

When the last note was sung, the applause crescendoed to a deafening roar that 
would have rivaled a sold-out crowd at Carnegie Hall. Embarrassed, the woman 
tried to shout over the din, "Oh, y'all go back to your coffee! I didn't come 
in here to do a concert! I just came in here to get somethin' to drink, just 
like you!" But the ovation continued. I embraced my new friend.

 

"You, my dear, have made my whole year! That was beautiful!"

 

"Well, it's funny that you picked that particular hymn," she said.

 

"Why is that?"

 

"Well .." she hesitated again, "that was my daughter's favorite song."

 

"Really!" I exclaimed.

 

"Yes," she said, and then grabbed my hands. By this time, the applause had 
subsided and it was business as usual. "She was 16. She died of a brain tumor 
last week."

 

I said the first thing that found its way through my stunned silence.

 

"Are you going to be okay?"

 

She smiled through tear-filled eyes and squeezed my hands. "I'm gonna be okay. 
I've just got to keep trusting the Lord and singing His songs, and everything's 
gonna be just fine." She picked up her bag, gave me her card, and then she was 
gone.

 

Was it just a coincidence that we happened to be singing in that particular 
coffee shop on that particular November night? Coincidence that this wonderful 
lady just happened to walk into that particular shop? Coincidence that of all 
the hymns to choose from, I just happened to pick the very hymn that was the 
favorite of her daughter, who had died just the week before? I refuse to 
believe it.

 

God has been arranging encounters in human history since the beginning of time, 
and it's no stretch for me to imagine that he could reach into a coffee shop in 
midtown Manhattan and turn an ordinary gig into a revival. It was a great 
reminder that if we keep trusting him and singing his songs, everything's gonna 
be okay.

 

The next time you feel like GOD can't use you, remember...

 

Abraham was too old

 

Isaac was a daydreamer

 

Jacob was a liar

 

Leah was ugly

 

Joseph was abused

 

Moses had a stuttering problem

 

Gideon was afraid

 

Sampson had long hair and was a womanizer

 

Rahab was a prostitute

 

Jeremiah and Timothy were too young

 

David had an affair and was a murderer

 

Elijah was suicidal

 

Isaiah preached naked

 

Jonah ran from God

 

Naomi was a widow

 

John the Baptist ate bugs

 

Peter denied Christ

 

The Disciples fell asleep while praying

 

Martha worried about everything

 

The Samaritan woman was divorced, more than once

 

Zaccheus was too small

 

Paul persecuted Christians

 

Timothy had an ulcer... AND

 

Lazarus was dead!!

 

God can use us to our full potential. Besides we aren't the message, we are 
just the messenger. Matt 5:16 (KJV)

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and 
glorify your Father which is in heaven. 

 

Ps 46:10   (KJV)
Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will 
be exalted in the earth.

-----Original Message-----
>From: Becky Davis <davisrb@xxxxxxxxxx>
>Sent: Apr 4, 2008 12:08 PM
>To: triadtechtalk@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
>Subject: [triadtechtalk] Re: TGIF - "Cracked(*) Humor"
>
>That's pretty funny - and isn't it just typical?!
>>
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