My Little Corner of the Universe

First of all, for those of you who commented some of your experiences, thank you.

Here is one of those:

“I recall my auntie telling me about one time when she was out on service with my cousins, a little girl and a toddler boy. One of the householders, in her complete mean-ness, dispatched her dogs to attack the sister and her children!”

Ok, I’m gonna pause here. Now that’s just plain mean! But all she’s doing is proving the apostle Paul’s words about the true followers of Christ: “All those desiring to live with godly devotion in association with Christ Jesus will also be persecuted.” – 2 Timothy 3:12

What was up with that lady anyway? Maybe she was just having a bad day. Hopefully, at a later time, she will regret this course of action and will accept the message.

Continuing...

"As the Canis lupus familiarises raced towards them, panic kinda set in and there was no time to run or hide. My aunt did what she could: put faith in Jehovah. She cried out His name and the dogs halted in their tracks, turned, and went on their merry way.”

The sister concluded this experience with: “The power of Jehovah ... and his swift angels.”

If anyone has more experiences (doesn’t have to involve dogs) please email me by clicking on the following link: [email roy]

Thanks Tam.

That's what brother Roman Diaz told my brother while he was in the nursing home, in hospice. About a week before he died. Last night the funeral services began. Brother Gonzalez gave the talk. And this morning, the final part of the services took place with a few words from brother Garcia doing a recap of last night's consideration.

We were the last ones to leave the funeral home, right after the family. When his sister went up to see him, she started weeping and could not stop. That was not easy to see.

But remembering the good and happy details helped. This sister mentioned how he used to be in the same bookstudy as she, at her house. She remembers how he would ask her to make his favorite cookies. And that he would always fight over the seats.

I remember when he would go out on service with us. Whenever we would work the street called 'Lytle', he could never pronounce it. He would say 'Li-li-light-er, lighter'. It was pretty funny. Pobrecito. He was always with a smerk. It's the little things that sometimes count and make all the difference. He will be missed until we see him again.

His family that were present are not Witnesses, so I think they benefitted from the comfort found in the Scriptures. Learning the truth of the Bible concerning death.

It was a sad occasion, but a joyful one too, knowing that brother Diaz lived a successful life in Jehovah's service. He served as an elder, a missionary, a special pioneer along with his wife, who died a couple of years ago. His missionary partner, brother Guajardo, was also there. He helped with the carrying of the coffin. And I, too, was one of the six to be carrying that box of sadness. But at the same time, it was a box filled with so many faithful years to Jehovah.

Hebrews 6:10 - "For God is not unrighteous so as to forget YOUR work and the love YOU showed for his name, in that YOU have ministered to the holy ones."