NEW: Team USA honors Johnny Gaudreau, who was killed by an alleged drunk driver, by bringing his kids on the ice.
Gaudreau was set to make the U.S. Olympics team before he & his brother were hit by a car in August of 2024.
His kids are now 2 and 3.
🇺🇸
The most terrifying detail about Noah's Ark isn't the size of the flood. It is the design of the boat.
If you look closely at the blueprints God gave Noah in Genesis 6, He was extremely specific.
He gave the exact length, width, and height. He specified the type of wood and the pitch to seal it.
In my little years, I have never thought of this, but God intentionally left out one crucial component. There was no steering wheel, no sail, and worse still, there was no engine.
Think about how scary that is.
Noah was building a massive vessel to survive a global storm, but he had zero control over it, or over where it went. He couldn't steer it away from rocks. He couldn't turn it into the waves. He couldn't aim for dry land. He was completely at the mercy of the water.
The Ark was not designed for navigation; just for floating.
Noah’s job was to be the Passenger, not the Captain.
God was the Captain.
This is a picture of your life right now.
You are trying to put a steering wheel in a boat that God can control, if you let Him…
@ClawForThatInch Joe Burrow??? He barely finished 2nd at Ohio State and transferred. This UNLV Qb isn’t close to the same. If any FSU fan is excited about this please go YouTube 1986-2000 FSU football. This is NOT the standard, the expectation or the direction. This is delusional thinking.
"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces.
But I see everything.
Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments.
One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?"
"6:15," he said, confused.
"Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it."
He blinked. "You... you can do that?"
"I can now," I said.
Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?"
"Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing."
He cried. Right there in the parking lot.
Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic.
But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!"
"Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel."
He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us."
The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over."
Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it.
But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note,
"Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends"
People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket.
I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece."
So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones.
Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees.
It's not glamorous. But it's everything."
Let this story reach more hearts....
Credit: Mary Nelson
Per #FSU sports info, Saturday's victory against Virginia Tech was the 600th win in program history.
The Seminoles (79 seasons) and Appalachian State (96) are the only schools that have won 600 games in fewer than 100 seasons. #Noles