"They received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures daily, whether those things were so." ~ Acts 17:11

"Fish Tales"

Poignant Points to Ponder

If you have any serious or humorous, thought provoking Christian tales or stories that you feel should be included on this site, please send us an e-mail with all pertinent information included.  We will review your suggestions. If we agree with you, we will post the material to the site as soon as possible.  We do welcome and value your feedback! :-)

The Station©

By: Robert J. Hastings

Reprinted by permission of: The Robert J. Hastings Estate

Tucked Away in our subconscious minds is an idyllic vision in which we see ourselves on a long journey that spans an entire continent. We're traveling by train and, from the windows, we drink in the passing scenes of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at crossings, of cattle grazing in distant pastures, of smoke pouring from power plants, of row upon row upon row of cotton and corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our conscious minds is our final destination -- for at a certain hour and on a given day, our train will finally pull into the station with bells ringing, flags waving, and bands playing. And once that day comes, so many wonderful dreams will come true. So restlessly, we pace the aisles and count the miles, peering ahead, waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.

"Yes, when we reach the station, that will be it!" we promise ourselves. "When we're eighteen . . .win that promotion . . . put the last kid through college . . . buy that 450 SL Mercedes Benz . . . pay off the mortgage . . . have a nest egg for retirement."

From that day on we will all live happily every after.

Sooner or later, however, we must realize there is no station in this life, no one earthly place to arrive at once and for all. The journey is the joy. The station is an illusion -- it constantly outdistances us. Yesterday's a memory, tomorrow's a dream. Yesterday belongs to a history, tomorrow belongs to God. Yesterday's a fading sunset, tomorrow's a faint sunrise. Only today is there light enough to love and live.

So gently close the door on yesterday and throw the key away. It isn't the burdens of today that drive men mad, but rather the regret over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow.

"Relish the moment" is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24, "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it."

So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, swim more rivers, climb more mountains, kiss more babies, count more stars. Laugh more and cry less. Go barefoot oftener. Eat more ice cream. Ride more merry-go-rounds. Watch more sunsets. Life must be lived as we go along.

© Copyright Robert J. Hastings Estate. All rights reserved. Updated 2007.

The Old Fisherman

By: Author Unknown

Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of John Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic.

One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face-- lopsided from swelling, red and raw. Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus till morning." He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success, no one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face... I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments . . ."

For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: "I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning. "I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. "No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown paper bag. When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take a very long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury. He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was prefaced with a thanks to God for a blessing.

He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going. At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, "Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children made me feel at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind." I told him he was welcome to come again. And, on his next trip, he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh I knew his bus left at 4:00 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.

In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden. Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious. When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning. "Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!" Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to bear. I know our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.

Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse. As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, "If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I had!" My friend changed my mind. "I ran short of pots," she explained, "and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden."

She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. "Here's an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. "He won't mind starting in this small body."

All this happened long ago -- and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.

The Three Trees

By: Author Unknown

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 the 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, 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.

What Makes A Man Who He is?

By: Allie Keys

"What makes a man who he is? Is it the worst things he's ever done? Or the best things he wants to be? When you find yourself in the middle of your life and you're nowhere near where you were going, how do you find a way, from the person you've become, to the one you know you could have been?"

Your Choice

By: Author Unknown

You always have a choice: 

• You can choose to stay safely within your comfort zone, or, you can choose to venture out and take part in life.
• You can choose the easy way out, or, you can choose to put forth some real, effective effort.
• And, the choices you make, will determine the life you live.
• Every action has a result.
• Every choice has its consequences.
• Look around you...
• Everything you see, everything in your life, is the result of choices you have made.
• You always have a choice, whether you want it or not.
• You cannot escape the choices, nor can you avoid their results.
• Yes, you can choose to let someone else run your life, but, of course, that is a choice in and of itself!

Almie Rose

By: Author Unknown

It was at least two months before Christmas, when nine year old Almie Rose told her father and me that she wanted a new bicycle. Her old Barbie bicycle was just too babyish, and besides it needed a new tire.

As Christmas drew nearer, her desire for a bicycle seemed to fade, or so we thought, as she didn't mention it again. Merrily, we started purchasing the latest rage, Baby-Sitter's Club dolls, and beautiful story books, a doll house, a holiday dress and toys. Then, much to our surprise, on December 23rd she proudly announced that she "really wanted a bike more than anything else."

Now we didn't know what to do. It was just too late, what with all the details of preparing Christmas dinner and buying last-minute gifts, to take the time to select the "right bike" for our little girl. So here we were, Christmas Eve around 9:00 PM, having just returned from a wonderful party, contemplating our evening ahead ...hours of wrapping children's presents, parent's presents, a brother's presents and friend's presents. With Almie Rose and her six year old brother, Dylan, nestled snug in their beds, we could now think only of the bike, the guilt and the idea that we were parents who would disappoint their child.

That's when my husband, Ron, was inspired. "What if I make a little bicycle out of clay and write a note that she could trade the clay model in for a real bike?" The theory, of course, being that since this is a high-ticket item and she is "such a big girl," it would be much better for her to pick it out. So he spent the next five hours painstakingly working with clay to create a miniature bike.

Three hours later, on Christmas morning, we were so excited for Almie Rose to open the little heart-shaped package with the beautiful red and white clay bike and the note. Finally, she opened and read the note aloud.

She looked at me and then at Ron and said, "So, does this mean that I trade in this bike that Daddy made me for a real one?"

Beaming, I said, "YES."

Almie Rose had tears in her eyes when she replied, "I could never trade in this beautiful bicycle that Daddy made me. I'd rather keep this than get a real bike."

At that moment, we would have moved Heaven and Earth to buy her every bicycle on the planet!

Angels

By: Author Unknown

Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family. The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest room. Instead the angels were given a space in the cold basement.

As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied... "Things aren't always what they seem".

The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife. After sharing what little food they had the couple let the angels sleep in their bed where they could have a good night's rest.  When the sun came up the next morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, lay dead in the field.

The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel "how could you have let this happen!? The first man had everything, yet you helped him," she accused. "The second family had little but was willing to share everything, and you let their cow die."

"Things aren't always what they seem," the older angel replied. "When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn't find it. Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave her the cow instead. Things aren't always what they seem."

Sometimes this is exactly what happens when things don't turn out the way they should. If you have faith, you just need to trust that every outcome is always to your advantage. You might not know it until some time later.

Happy New Year 1998!

By: Edgar Guest

As 1998 draws to a rapid close, it is a good time to reflect on our lives - the events and circumstances that shape our existence. It seems that with each passing year, time moves faster and faster. Our lives are filled with more stress and less time to focus on what is really important - our family, friends, happiness, health, and putting our faith in action.

Teddy Roosevelt said it best... "far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much not suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat."

Thankfully, we have known more victory than defeat and with many relationships and opportunities we have dared mighty things. With life moving at warp speed, we often tend to take for granted those that contribute to making our lives successful. As our family has spent considerable time focusing on a new future, I wanted to take a moment to let you know how much I appreciate each of you. I thank you for your support and confidence over the years.

I've been particularly inspired over the years by the following prose...

God's Word Proves Itself Time and Again!

By: Mr. Harold Hill, President: Curtis Engine Company, Baltimore, Maryland

Did you know that NASA's space program is busy proving that what has been called "a myth" in the Bible is, in reality, very true?

Mr. Harold Hill, President of the Curtis Engine Company in Baltimore Maryland and a consultant in the space program, relates the following development.

I think one of the most amazing things that God has for us today happened recently to our astronauts and space scientists at Green Belt, Maryland. They were checking the position of the sun, moon, and planets out in space and where they would be 100 years and 1000 years from now. We have to know this so that we don't send a satellite up and have it bump into something later on in its orbits. We have to lay out the satellite's orbits in terms of the life of the satellite, and where the planets will be during that same time frame so the whole thing will not bog down.

They ran the computer measurement back and forth over the centuries and it came to a halt. The computer stopped and put up a red signal, which meant that there was something wrong either with the information fed into it or with the results as compared to the standards. They called in the service department to check it out and they said "What's wrong ?" Well, they found that there is a day missing in space with regards to elapsed time. They scratched their heads and tore their hair. There was no answer. 

Finally, a Christian man on the team said, "You know, when I was a kid in Sunday School, I remember my teacher telling me a story about the sun standing still." While they didn't believe him, they didn't have an answer either, so they said, "Show us". He got a Bible and went back to the book of Joshua where they found a pretty ridiculous statement for any one with any "common sense." There they found the Lord saying to Joshua, "Fear them not, I have delivered them into thy hand; there shall not a man of them stand before thee." Joshua was concerned because he was surrounded by the enemy and if darkness fell the enemy would overpower them. So, Joshua asked the Lord to make the sun stand still! That's right, "The sun stood still and the moon stayed, and hastened not to go down about a whole day!" The astronauts and scientists said, "There is the missing day!"

They checked the computers, going back into the time frame in which Joshua was written and found it was close, but not close enough. The elapsed time that was missing back in Joshua's day was 23 hours and 20 minutes, not a whole day. They re-read the Bible and there it was, "about (approximately) a day". These little words were important, but they were still in trouble. If they could not account for 40 minutes back in time, they would still be in trouble, by 40 minutes, 1,000 years from now. The 40 minutes had to be found. Even that small a time frame can be multiplied many times over during the life span of a satellite in orbit.

As the Christian employee thought about it, he remembered that somewhere in the Bible it said that the sun had gone backwards. The scientists told him that he was out of his mind. However, they got out the Bible, again, and read these words in 2 Kings: Hezekiah, on his death-bed, was visited by the prophet Isaiah who told him that he was not going to die. Hezekiah asked for a sign as proof. Isaiah said, "Do you want the sun to go ahead by 10 degrees?" Hezekiah said, "It is nothing for the sun to go ahead by 10 degrees, but let the shadow return backward by 10 degrees." Isaiah spoke to the Lord and the Lord brought the shadow 10 degrees backwards! Ten degrees is exactly 40 minutes in time! 

The twenty three hours and 20 minutes in Joshua, plus the 40 minutes in Second Kings, make up the missing day in the universe! Isn't it amazing? God's word was true, is true and will be true! 

References:

• Joshua 10:8 and 12,13
• 2 Kings 20:9-11

Ice Cream

By: Author Unknown

Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is great, God is good. Thank you for the food, and I would thank you even more if Mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And, liberty and justice for all! Amen!"

Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Asking God for ice cream! Why, I never!"

Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?"

As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table. He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer."

"Really?", my son asked.

"Cross my heart"! Then in a very theatrical whisper, his eyes rolling to indicate the woman whose remark had started this whole thing, the man added, "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."

Naturally, I bought my children ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember for the rest of my life. He picked up his sundae and without a word walked over and placed it in front of the woman.

With a big smile he told her, "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes and my soul is good already!"

If I Had My Life To Live Over

By: Erma Bombeck

• I would have talked less and listened more.
• I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa was faded.
• I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
• I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
• I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
• I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
• I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
• I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life.
• I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
• I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
• I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
• Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
• When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later, now go get washed up for dinner."
• There would have been more "I love yous" more "I'm sorrys" but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute... look at it and really see it... live it... and never give it back.

Information, Please...

By: Anonymous

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well the polished old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but use to listen with fascination when my mother would talk to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside that wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please", and there was nothing she did not know. "Information Please" could supply anybody's number and the correct time.

My first personal experience with this genie-in the-telephone came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any reason to cry because there was no one home to give me any sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.

The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the foot stool in the parlor and dragged it to the stair landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver and held it to my ear. "Information Please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear, "Information?" "Information, I hurt my finger..." I wailed. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience. "Isn't your mother home?" came the question. "Nobody's home but me." I blubbered. "Are you bleeding?" "No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts." "Can you open your icebox?" she asked. I said I could. "Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography lesson and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me that my pet chipmunk, that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts. Then, there was the time that Petey, our pet canary, died. I called "Information Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was un-consoled. I asked her, " Why is it that birds sing so beautifully and bring such joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers at the bottom of a cage?" She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone. "Information Please." "Information?" said the now familiar voice. "How do you spell fix?" I asked. All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was 9 years old, we moved across the country to Boston.  I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall.

As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about half an hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then, without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information, Please." Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well, "Information?" I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now." I laughed. "So it's really still you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time."

"I wonder", she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me." "I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls." I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked If I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister. "Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered "Information?" I asked for Sally. "Are you a friend?" she said. "Yes, a very old friend," I answered. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, she said. Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."

Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?" "Yes." "Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean." I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression that you may make on other people. I remember, very vividly, my own "Information Please" in Craig, Colorado several eons ago. (The WebServant)

Instructions for Life

By: Author Unknown

• Give people more than they expect, and do it cheerfully.
• Memorize your favorite poem.
• Don't believe all you hear, spend all you have, or sleep all you want.
• When you say, "I love you", mean it.
• When you say, "I'm sorry", look the person in the eye.
• Be engaged at least six months before you get married.
• Believe in love at first sight.
• Never laugh at anyone's dreams.
• Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt but it's the only way to live life completely.
• In disagreements, fight fairly. No name calling.
• Don't judge people by their relatives.
• Talk slowly, but think quickly.
• When someone asks you a question you don't want to answer, smile and ask, "Why do you want to know?".
• Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
• Call your mom and your dad (while you still can).
• Say, "Bless you", when you hear someone sneeze.
• When you lose, don't lose the lesson.
• Remember the three R's: Respect for self; Respect for others; Responsibility for all actions.
• Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.
• When you realize you've made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
• Smile when picking up the phone. The caller will hear it in your voice.
• Marry a person you love to talk to. As you get older, their conversational skills will be as important as any other.
• Spend some time alone.
• Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values.
• Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
• Read more books and watch less TV.
• Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you'll get to enjoy it a second time.
• Trust in God but lock your car.
• A loving atmosphere in your home is so important. Do all you can to create a tranquil harmonious home.
• In disagreements with loved ones, deal with the current situation. Don't bring up the past.
• Read between the lines.
• Share your knowledge. It's a way to achieve immortality.
• Be gentle with the earth.
• Pray -- there's immeasurable power in it!
• Never interrupt when you are being flattered.
• Mind your own business.
• Don't trust a lover who doesn't close his/her eyes when you kiss them.
• Once a year, go someplace you've never been before.
• If you make a lot of money, put it to use helping others while you are living. That is wealth's greatest satisfaction.
• Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a stroke of luck.
• Learn the rules then break some.
• Remember that the best relationship is one where your love for each other is greater than your need for each other.
• Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.
• Remember that your character is your destiny.
• Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon.

Kansas Senate Prayer

By: Pastor Joe Wright

When Pastor Joe Wright was asked to open the new session of the Kansas Senate, everyone was expecting the usual politically correct generalities. But, what they heard instead was a stirring prayer, passionately calling our country to repentance and righteousness. The response was immediate and a number of legislators walked out during the prayer.

Commentator Paul Harvey aired the prayer on the radio and received a larger response to this program than any other program he has ever aired.

Prayed by Pastor Joe Wright, Kansas

"Heavenly Father, we come before You today to ask Your forgiveness and seek Your direction and guidance. We know Your Word says, 'Woe on those who call evil good', but that's exactly what we have done. We have lost our spiritual equilibrium and inverted our values. We confess that:

• We have ridiculed the absolute truth of Your Word and called it pluralism.
• We have worshiped other gods and called it multiculturalism.
• We have endorsed perversion and called it an alternative lifestyle.
• We have exploited the poor and called it the lottery.
• We have neglected the needy and called it self-preservation.
• We have rewarded laziness and called it welfare.
• We have killed our unborn and called it choice.
• We have shot abortionists and called it justifiable.
• We have neglected to discipline our children and called it building self-esteem.
• We have abused power and called it political savvy.
• We have coveted our neighbor' s possessions and called it ambition.
• We have polluted the air with profanity and pornography and called it freedom of expression.
• We have ridiculed the time-honored values of our forefathers and called it enlightenment.

Search us, O God, and know our hearts today; cleanse us from every sin and set us free. Guide and bless these men and women who have been sent here by the people of Kansas, and who have been ordained by You to govern this great state. Grant them the wisdom to rule, and may their decisions direct us to the center of Your will. 

I ask it in the name of Your Son, the Living Savior, Jesus Christ, Amen.

Living Example

By: Author Unknown

Reporters and city officials gathered at a Chicago railroad station one afternoon in 1953. The person they were meeting was the 1952 Nobel Peace Prize winner. A few minutes after the train came to a stop, a giant of a man - six feet four inches - with bushy hair and a large mustache stepped from the train. Cameras flashed. City officials approached him with hands outstretched. Various people began telling him how honored they were to meet him.

The man politely thanked them and then, looking over their heads, asked if he could be excused for a moment. He quickly walked through the crowd until he reached the side of an elderly black woman who was struggling with two large suitcases. He picked up the bags and with a smile, escorted the woman to a bus. After helping her aboard, he wished her a safe journey. As he returned to the greeting party he apologized, "Sorry to have kept you waiting."

The man was Dr. Albert Schweitzer, the famous missionary doctor who had spent his life helping the poor in Africa. In response to Schweitzer's action, one member of the reception committee said with great admiration to the reporter standing next to him, "That's the first time I ever saw a sermon walking."

The Envelope

By: Camden County (Georgia) Tribune

(A Christmas Story)

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 10 years or so. It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas! Oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it. Overspending, 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 wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended. 

Shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black. 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. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.

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, and he knew them, having coached 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 an envelope on the tree, the note inside told Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year, and in succeeding years. 

Each Christmas thereafter, 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 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 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 in the morning, it was joined by three more! Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad! 

The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation, watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.

The Fence

By: Author Unknown

There was a little boy with a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, to hammer a nail in the back fence. 

The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Then it gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence. 

Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. 

The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. 

The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this nail hole. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there. A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one. Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us." .

The Trouble Tree

By: Author Unknown

The carpenter I hired to help me restore an old farmhouse had just finished a rough first day on the job. A flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric saw quit and now his ancient pickup truck refused to start. While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, he invited me in to meet his family. As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands.

When opening the door, he underwent an amazing transformation. His tanned face was wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss. Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier.

"Oh, that's my trouble tree," he replied. "I know I can't help having troubles on the job, but one things for sure, troubles don't belong in the house with my wife and the children. So I just hang them up on the tree every night when I come home. Then in the morning I pick them up again.

"Funny thing is," he smiled, "when I come out in the morning to pick 'em up, there ain't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before."

From: "A 4th Course of Chicken Soup for the Soul" © 1997 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Hanoch McCarty & Meladee McCarty.

Time Management

By: Author Unknown

A "Time Management Expert" was recently addressing a group of professionals when she was asked a series of questions about "bandwidth" "overload" and "prioritizing."

She responded by pulling out a one-gallon, wide-mouthed "Mason jar" and setting it on the table in front of her. She then produced about a dozen fist-sized rocks and carefully placed them, one at a time, into the jar.

When the jar was filled to the top and no more rocks would fit inside, she asked, "Is this jar full?" 

Her audience responded with a confident "yes."

"Really?" she commented, as she reached under the table to pull out a bucket of gravel. She then poured the gravel into the Mason jar and swirled the jar about until every space between the rocks had been filled.

"Okay," she asked, "now is the jar full?"

By this time the group was onto her and replied with "Probably not."

"Good!" she replied as she reached under the table and brought out a bucket of sand. She poured the sand into the jar and it filled all the spaces between the rocks and the gravel.

Again she asked her audience, "Is this jar full?"

This time, they responded with a confident "No!"

"Now we're getting somewhere" the speaker replied. She then produced a pitcher of water and poured it into the jar until it was filled to the brim.

She allowed the mixture in the jar to settle for a moment, and then looked to the audience and asked "What's the point of this illustration?"

 One member boldly suggested, "The point is, no matter how full your schedule is, if you try hard enough, you can always fit some more into it!"

"Nice try, but that's NOT the point" the speaker replied. "The point of this illustration is to remind us that if you don't put the big rocks in FIRST, you'll never get them in at all."

So... What are the "Big Rocks" you've been wanting to put in your Life?

Hear The Music Before The Song Is Over

By: Author Unknown

Too many people put off something that brings them joy just because they haven't thought about it, don't have it on their schedule, didn't know it was coming or are too rigid to depart from their routine. I got to thinking one day about all those women on the Titanic who passed up dessert at dinner that fateful night in an effort to cut back. From then on, I've tried to be a little more flexible.

How many women out there will eat at home because their husband didn't suggest going out to dinner until after something had been thawed? Does the word "refrigeration" mean nothing to you? :-) How often have your kids dropped in to talk and sat in silence while you watched Jeopardy! on television? I cannot count the times I called my sister and said, "How about going to lunch in a half hour?" She would gasp and stammer, "I can't. I have clothes on the line. My hair is dirty. I wish I had known yesterday, I had a late breakfast, It looks like rain." And my personal favorite: "It's Monday." She died a few years ago. We never did have lunch together.

Because Americans cram so much into their lives, we tend to schedule our headaches. We live on a sparse diet of promises we make to ourselves when all the conditions are perfect: We'll go back and visit the grandparents when we get Stevie toilet trained. We'll entertain when we replace the living-room carpet. We'll go on a second honeymoon when we get two more kids out of college. Life has a way of accelerating as we get older. The days get shorter, and the list of promises to ourselves gets longer.

One morning, we awaken, and all we have to show for our lives is a litany of "I'm going to," "I plan on" and "Someday, when things are settled down a bit." When anyone calls my 'seize the moment' friend, she is open to adventure and available for trips. She keeps an open mind on new ideas. Her enthusiasm for life is contagious. You talk with her for five minutes, and you're ready to trade your bad feet for a pair of Rollerblades and skip an elevator for a bungee cord.

My lips have not touched ice cream in 10 years. I love ice cream. It's just that I might as well apply it directly to my hips with a spatula and eliminate the digestive process. The other day, I stopped the car and bought a triple-decker. If my car had hit an iceberg on the way home, I would have died happy.

Now... go on and have a nice day. Do something you WANT to...... not something on your SHOULD DO list. If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting? Make sure you read this to the end; you will understand why I sent this to you.

Have you ever watched kids playing on a merry go round or listened to the rain lapping on the ground? Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight or gazed at the sun into the fading night? You better slow down. Don't dance so fast. Time is short. The music won't last. Do you run through each day on the fly? When you ask "How are you?" Do you hear the reply? When the day is done, do you lie in your bed with the next hundred chores running through your head? Ever told your child, We'll do it tomorrow and in your haste, not see his sorrow? Ever lost touch? Let a good friendship die? Just call to say "Hi"?

You'd better slow down. Don't dance so fast. Time is short. The music won't last. When you run so fast to get somewhere, you miss half the fun of getting there. When you worry and hurry through your day, it is like an unopened gift.... thrown away! Life is not a race. Take it slower. Hear the music before the song is over.

Show your friends and family how much you care. A tried, true and trusted friend is worth their weight in platinum (more expensive than gold). If you are fortunate enough to have even one, you are indeed a very wealthy person. And, don't forget to thank the Lord for your friend(s). Call, visit (just drop by), send an e-mail, send a fax, send some flowers, send a card, invite them out for the day, go to breakfast, go to lunch, go to dinner, go for a cup of coffee, go for a drive, go for a walk, sit on a park bench, sit on a beach, talk (look them in the eye), share some pictures of you and your family (if you have one), apologize (if necessary), ask for forgiveness (if necessary). Do something! :-) The Bottom line: Be what you once were and can be again, a friend! The Lord has blessed me greatly, I have a few, good friends! (The WebServant)

Isn't It Strange...?

By: Author Unknown

• Isn't it strange how a 20 dollar bill seems like such a large amount when you donate it to church, but such a small amount when you go shopping?
• Isn't it strange how endless it seems when we are serving God, but how short it is when we watch a basketball game for 60 minutes?
• Isn't it strange how 2 hours seem so long when you're at church, and how short they seem when you're watching a good movie?
• Isn't it strange that you can't find a word to say when you're praying, but you have no trouble thinking what to talk about with a friend?
• Isn't it strange how difficult and boring it is to read one chapter of the Bible, but how easy it is to read 100 pages of a popular novel?
• Isn't it strange how everyone wants front-row-tickets to concerts or games, but they do whatever is possible to sit at the last row in Church?
• Isn't it strange how we need to know about an event for Church 2-3 weeks before the day so we can include it in our agenda, but we can adjust our agenda for other events at the last minute?
• Isn't it strange how difficult it is to learn a fact about God in order to share it with others, but how easy it is to learn, understand, extend and repeat gossip?
• Isn't it strange how we believe everything that magazines and newspapers say, but we question the words in the Bible?
• Isn't it strange how everyone wants a place in heaven, but they don't want to believe, do, or say anything to get there?
• Isn't it strange how we send jokes in e-mails and they are forwarded right away, but when we are going to send messages about God, we think about it twice before we share it with others?

Teach Me To Forgive...

By: Author Unknown

One day a while back, a man, his heart heavy with grief, was walking in the woods. As he thought about his life this day, he knew many things were not right. He thought about those who had lied about him back when he had a job. His thoughts turned to those who had stolen his things and cheated him. He remembered family that had passed on. His mind turned to the illness he had that no one could cure. His very soul was filled with anger, resentment and frustration.

Standing there this day, searching for answers he could not find, knowing all else had failed him, he knelt at the base of an old oak tree to seek the One he knew would always be there. And, with tears in his eyes, he prayed:

"Lord, you have done wonderful things for me in this life. You have told me to do many things for you, and I happily obeyed. Today, you have told me to forgive. I am sad, Lord, because I cannot. I don't know how. 

It is not fair, Lord. I didn't deserve these wrongs that were done against me and I shouldn't have to forgive. As perfect as your way is, Lord, this one thing I cannot do, for I don't know how to forgive. My anger is so deep, Lord, I fear I may not hear you, but I pray that you teach me to do this one thing I cannot do. Teach me To Forgive."

As he knelt there in the quiet shade of that old oak tree, he felt something fall onto his shoulder. He opened his eyes. Out of the corner of one eye, he saw something red on his shirt. He could not turn to see what it was because where the oak tree had been was a large square piece of wood in the ground. He raised his head and saw two feet held to the wood with a large spike through them.

He raised his head more, and tears came to his eyes as he saw Jesus hanging on the cross. He saw spikes in His hands, a gash in His side, a torn and battered body and deep thorns sunk into His head. Finally he saw the suffering and pain on His precious face. As their eyes met, the man's tears turned to sobbing, and Jesus began to speak.

"Have you ever told a lie?" Jesus asked. The man answered, "Yes, Lord."

"Have you ever been given too much change and kept it?" The man, crying now, answered, "Yes, Lord."

"Have you ever taken something from work that wasn't yours?" He asked. And, the man answered, "Yes, Lord."

"Have you ever sworn, using my Father's name in vain?" Answering, "Yes, Lord.", the man sobbed more and more.

As Jesus asked many more times, "Have you ever...?", the man's crying became uncontrollable. He could only answer, "Yes, Lord."

As Jesus turned His head from one side to the other the man felt something fall on his other shoulder. Looking, the man saw that it was the blood of Jesus. As he looked back up, his eyes met those of Jesus. There was a look of love the man had never seen or known before.

Jesus said, "I didn't deserve this either, but I forgive you."

A Visit From The Christ Child

By: Père Robért

for Maria, Ida, Isabel, Maxine, Crozet & Audrey

Twas the morning of Christmas, when all through the house
All the family was frantic, including my spouse;
For each one of them had one thing only in mind,
To examine the presents St. Nick left behind.

The boxes and wrapping and ribbons and toys
Were strewn on the floor, and the volume of noise
Increased as our children began a big fight
Over who got the video games, who got the bike.

I looked at my watch and I said, slightly nervous,
"Let's get ready for church, so we won't miss the service."
The children protested, "We don't want to pray:
We've just got our presents, and we want to play!"

It dawned on me then that we had gone astray,
In confusing the purpose of this special day;
Our presents were many and very high-priced
But something was missing -- that something was Christ!
I said, "Put the gifts down and let's gather together,
And I'll tell you a tale of the greatest gift ever.

"A savior was promised when Adam first sinned,
And the hopes of the world upon Jesus were pinned.
Abraham begat Isaac, who Jacob begat,
And through David the line went to Joseph, whereat
This carpenter married a maiden with child,
Who yet was a virgin, in no way defiled.

"Saying 'Hail, full of Grace,' an archangel appeared
To Mary the Blessed, among women revered:
The Lord willed she would bear -- through the Spirit -- a son.
Said Mary to Gabriel, 'God's will be done.'

"Now Caesar commanded a tax would be paid,
And all would go home while the census was made;
Thus Joseph and Mary did leave Galilee
For the city of David to pay this new fee.

"Mary's time had arrived, but the inn had no room,
So she laid in a manger the fruit of her womb;
And both Joseph and Mary admired as He napped
The Light of the World in his swaddling clothes wrapped.

"Three wise men from the East had come looking for news
Of the birth of the Savior, the King of the Jews;
They carried great gifts as they followed a star --
Gold, frankincense, myrrh, which they'd brought from afar.

"As the shepherds watched over their flocks on that night,
The glory of God shone upon them quite bright,
And an angel explained the intent of the birth,
Saying, 'Glory to God and His peace to the earth.'

"For this was the Messiah whom prophets foretold,
A good shepherd to bring his sheep back to the fold;
He was God become man, He would die on the cross,
He would rise from the dead to restore Adam's loss.

"Santa Claus, Christmas presents, a brightly lit pine,
Candy canes and spiked eggnog are all very fine;
Let's have fun celebrating, but leave not a doubt
That Christ is what Christmas is really about!"

The children right then put an end to the noise,
They dressed quickly for church, put away all their toys;
For they knew Jesus loved them and said they were glad
That He'd died for their sins, and to save their dear Dad.

©1986 F.R. Duplantier

Directions To Our Father's House

By: Author Unknown

• Make a Right onto Believeth Blvd.
• Keep straight and go through the Green Light, which is Jesus Christ.
• There, you must turn onto the Bridge of Faith, which is over troubled water.
• When you get off the bridge, make a Right turn and Keep Straight.
• You are on the King's Highway - Heaven-bound.
• Keep going for three miles: One for the Father, One for the Son, and One for the Holy Ghost.
• Then, exit off onto Grace Blvd.
• From there, make a Right turn on Gospel Lane.
• Keep Straight and then make another Right on Prayer Road.
• As you go on your way, Yield Not to the traffic on Temptation Ave..
• Also, avoid SIN STREET because it is a DEAD END.
• Pass up Envy Drive, and Hate Avenue.
• Also, pass Hypocrisy Street, Gossiping Lane, and Backbiting Blvd.
• However, you have to go down Long-suffering Lane, Persecution Blvd. and Trials and Tribulations Ave.
• But that's all right, because VICTORY Street is straight ahead!

Change Begins With Choice

By: Jim Rohn

Any day we wish; we can discipline ourselves to change it all. Any day we wish; we can open the book that will open our mind to new knowledge. Any day we wish; we can start a new activity. Any day we wish; we can start the process of life change. We can do it immediately, or next week, or next month, or next year.

We can also do nothing. We can pretend rather than perform. And if the idea of having to change ourselves makes us uncomfortable, we can remain as we are. We can choose rest over labor, entertainment over education, delusion over truth, and doubt over confidence.

The choices are ours to make. But while we curse the effect, we continue to nourish the cause. As Shakespeare uniquely observed, "The fault is not in the stars, but in ourselves." We created our circumstances by our past choices. We have both the ability and the responsibility to make better choices beginning today.

Those who are in search of the good life do not need more answers or more time to think things over to reach better conclusions. They need the truth. They need the whole truth. And they need nothing but the truth. We cannot allow our errors in judgment, repeated every day, to lead us down the wrong path. We must keep coming back to those basics that make the biggest difference in how our life works out. And then we must make the very choices that will bring life, happiness and joy into our daily lives. And, if I may be so bold to offer my last piece of advice for someone seeking and needing to make changes in their life - If you don't like how things are, change it! You're not a tree. You have the ability to totally transform every area in your life - and it all begins with your very own power of choice.

Candle Of Hope

By: Author Unknown

Out of the darkness a candle will glow
regardless of storm clouds or harsh winds that blow,
When searching for answers this much I know
adversity is given to help us to grow.

Strength is a gift given when born
but love is the key to keeping us strong,
Hope is the answer when things go wrong
and faith will abide when all hope is gone

If you question why life is unfair
or why many don't care,
Make a difference, accept a dare
reach out to others, begin to share.

This is the moment, this is the time
reflect on your life, you'll see a sign,
Light one candle, let it shine
bring hope to the world and all mankind.

One More Attempt

By: Ralph Marston

Every time you come up short, brings you one step closer to success.  Every "no" you hear brings you closer to hearing "yes." Every effort that does not produce the results you intended, brings you closer to a winning strategy. 

Though the outcome may at first be disappointing, with your sincere effort you are on the right track. The goal is waiting to be reached, waiting for you to keep going. 

When you fail to get the results you want, learn from what you've done, make the appropriate changes, and then do it one more time. Success is just one more attempt away from failure. 

It would be a shame not to make that one more attempt!

A "Sappy" Holiday Message

By: Scott Adams

This is from the Dilbert Newsletter 28.0, December 1999. In the tradition of the Dilbert Newsletter, I give you a special holiday story with no humor content whatsoever.

It was one of those cold winter nights in the Haight district of San Francisco, the kind where the rain hurts, and your breath forms huge cotton balls that bounce on the pavement. I was driving an eyesore that could only be referred to as a "car" by someone who was either a shameless liar or a good friend. Technically, the vehicle was totaled when I bought it from an unscrupulous neighbor, because it needed an engine overhaul that would have cost more than the car itself. I added a quart of oil before every journey. Most of it would leak out along the way. I tried to imagine I was driving a huge magical snail; that way I didn't mind the slow speeds and the slime trail it left.

The car's outer paint had transformed into a hideous mixture of rust and "something brown." The engine sounded like a lawnmower with tuberculosis. If anyone ever wondered what the inside of an automobile seat looked like, my car had the answers.

It was a difficult car to drive because you had to keep your fingers and toes crossed to keep the engine running. That night I must have uncrossed my fingers to scratch something. The car died in the middle of a four-lane stretch of Oak Street. I coasted as far as I could, hoping for a place to turn off, but the street was lined with parked cars and the nearest intersection was beyond coasting distance. There I sat, in busy evening traffic, no lights, no locomotion, as tons of steel and plastic screamed by.

In my rearview mirror I saw a pair of headlights pull up and stop behind me. I knew what was coming. Soon the horn would start and someone would be cursing at me. In San Francisco, if you dawdle too long after a light turns green, you get the horn. If you dare to come to a full stop at a stop sign, you get the horn from the car behind you. I figured I was begging for trouble.

But I was wrong.

A stranger got out of the car and came to my window. He shouted, "Do you want a push?" I was stunned but must have nodded in the affirmative. He waived to his car and two teens piled out to apply themselves to my bumper. When I was safely delivered to a side street, they hopped back into their car and rejoined the sea of anonymous traffic.

I didn't get to thank them.

Over the years I've realized something about the stranger who stopped to help. I've noticed that every time I'm in trouble, he appears. He never looks the same. Sometimes he's a woman. His age and ethnicity vary. But he's always there. I've started to understand he's the best part of what makes us human beings. The one true thing in this world is an unasked kindness provided by a stranger.

It's the invisible cord that binds us all together and makes life worthwhile.

This year, when you find yourself immersed in the clutter and bustle of the holiday season, annoyed by the long lines, baffled about how you'll get everything done, remember this: One of the people in that crowd is the stranger. Today, maybe it's you.

Have a great holiday season, everyone.

Veteran's Day 2003

By: GCFL

We at GCFL can always count on Tom to provide a serious, but important commentary on Veteran Day. Tom's mailing list, called (interesting enough) Good Clean Fun, is one of the few that GCFL is willing to endorse. It is with great honor and respect that we quote his mailing for Veteran's Day. Thanx to Tom and all vets that have paid the price for our freedom in America.

There are a small handful of times during the year when I switch to a serious topic. Veteran's Day is one of those occasions that is very important to me. In the United States, Veteran's Day is this Tuesday, November 11th (this is also Remembrance Day in Canada). In the early 1970's, Veteran's Day became a "movable" holiday -- the fourth Monday of October. In 1978, at the urging of veteran's groups who realized the sanctity of the date, Congress returned Veteran's Day to November 11th. Please remember that this day is not to honor war, but rather to honor the sacrifice made by others for our freedom.

What we call Veteran's Day is the anniversary of the signing of the Armistice in the Forest of Campiegne by the Allies and the Germans in 1918 (the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month). This signified the end of World War I and was originally known as Armistice Day. President Woodrow Wilson signed the Congressional Resolution on Nov. 11, 1919, the first Armistice Day.

However, after World War II, the day began to lose meaning and since there were many other veterans to consider, the decision was made to change November 11th to honor all those who fought in American wars. The United States Congress passed an act to change the name to Veteran's Day and in 1954 President Dwight Eisenhower signed the act.

With that in mind, I would like to say "thank you" to all the men and women with whom I served, and to especially remember those who aren't with us anymore. As a former Hospital Corpsman, I wish a heartfelt "Semper Fi" to all my Marine friends. - Tom Ellsworth (HM2 USN 1965-69)

(Note: The following piece was attributed to a Marine Corps chaplain, but as a Hospital Corpsman, I know that technically any chaplain with a Marine unit is really a member of the US Navy, just as any doctor, nurse, or hospital corpsman (medic) is a member of the US Navy. This bit of military trivia is most likely not known by most people, but it in no way diminishes the powerful message of the piece nor my profound respect for the Marines.)

What Is A Veteran?

(Attributed to a Marine Corps chaplain, Father Denis Edward O'Brian)

Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a jagged scar, a certain look in the eye.

Others may carry the evidence inside them, a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg - or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's alloy forged in the refinery of adversity.

Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a vet just by looking. What is a vet?

A vet is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out of fuel.

A vet is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th Parallel.

A vet is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.

A vet is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't come back at all.

A vet is the drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account punks and gang members into marines, airmen, sailors, soldiers and coast guardsmen, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.

A vet is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.

A vet is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by.

A vet is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.

A vet is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come.

A vet is an ordinary and yet extraordinary human being, a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs.

A vet is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more that the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known.

So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say, "Thank You." That's all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.

Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU!"

10 Things God Won't Ask You On That Final Day

By: Author Unknown

1. God won't ask what kind of car you drove, He'll ask how many people you drove who didn't have transportation.

2. God won't ask the square footage of your house, He'll ask how many people you welcomed into your home.

3. God won't ask about the clothes you had in your closet, He'll ask how many you helped to clothe.

4. God won't ask what your highest salary was, He'll ask if you compromised your character to obtain it.

5. God won't ask what your job title was, He'll ask if you performed your job to the best of your ability.

6. God won't ask how many friends you had, He'll ask how many people to whom you were a friend.

7. God won't ask in what neighborhood you lived, He'll ask how you treated your neighbors.

8. God won't ask about the color of your skin, He'll ask about the content of your character.

9. God won't ask why it took you so long to seek Salvation, He'll lovingly take you to your mansion in heaven, and not to the gates of Hell.

10. God won't have to ask how many people you shared this with, He already knows whether or not you are ashamed to share His word.

Merry Christmas In 72 Languages!

By: Author Unknown

• Afrikaans - Een plesierige kerfees (how do you say that?)
• Arabic - I'd Miilad Said Oua Sana Saida
• Argentine - Felices Pasquas Y felices ano Nuevo
• Armenian - Shenoraavor Nor Dari yevPari Gaghand
• Azeri - Tezze Iliniz Yahsi Olsun
• Basque - Zorionak eta Urte Berri On!
• Bohemian - Vesele Vanoce
• Brazilian - Boas Festas e Feliz Ano Novo
• Breton - Nedeleg laouen na bloavezh mat
• Bulgarian - Tchestita Koleda; Tchestito Rojdestvo Hristovo 
• Chinese (Mandarin) - Kung His Hsin Nien bing Chu Shen Tan
• Chinese (Cantonese) - Gun Tso Sun Tan'Gung Haw Sun
• Cornish - Nadelik looan na looan blethen noweth
• Cree - Mitho Makosi Kesikansi
• Croatian - Sretan Bozic
• Czech - Prejeme Vam Vesele Vanoce stastny Novy Rok
• Danish - Gledelig Jul
• Dutch - Vrolijk Kerstfeest en een Gelukkig Nieuwjaar!
• English - Merry Christmas
• Esperanto - Gajan Kristnaskon
• Estonian - Ruumsaid juulup|hi
• Farsi - Cristmas-e-shoma mobarak bashad
• Finnish - Hyva a joulua
• French - Joyeux Noel
• Frisian - Noflike Krystdagen en in protte Lok en Seine yn it Nije Jier!
• German - Froehliche Weihnachten
• Greek - Kala Christouyenna!
• Hawaiian - Mele Kalikimaka
• Hebrew - Mo'adim Lesimkha. Chena tova
• Hindi - Shub Naya Baras
• Hungarian - Kellemes Karacsonyi unnepeket
• Icelandic - Gledileg Jol
• Indonesian - Selamat Hari Natal
• Iraqi - Idah Saidan Wa Sanah Jadidah
• Irish - Nollaig Shona Dhuit
• Italian - Buone Feste Natalizie
• Japanese - Shinnen omedeto. Kurisumasu Omedeto
• Korean - Sung Tan Chuk Ha
• Latvian - Prieci'gus Ziemsve'tkus un Laimi'gu Jauno Gadu
• Lithuanian - Linksmu Kaledu
• Manx - Nollick ghennal as blein vie noa
• Maori - Meri Kirihimete
• Marathi - Shub Naya Varsh
• Navajo - Merry Keshmish
• New Guinea - Bikpela hamamas blong dispela Krismas na Nupela yia igo long yu.
• Norwegian - God Jul
• Pennsylvania German - Frehlicher Grischtdaag un en hallich Nei Yaahr!
• Polish - Wesolych Swiat Bozego Narodzenia
• Portuguese - Boas Festas
• Rapa-Nui - Mata-Ki-Te-Rangi. Te-Pito-O-Te-Henua
• Rumanian - Sarbatori vesele
• Russian - Pozdrevlyayu s prazdnikom Rozhdestva is Novim Godom
• Serbian - Hristos se rodi
• Slovakian - Sretan Bozic or Vesele vianoce
• Sami - Buorrit Juovllat 
• Samoan - La Maunia Le Kilisimasi Ma Le Tausaga Fou
• Scots - (Gaelic) Nollaig chridheil huibh
• Serb-Croatian - Sretam Bozic. Vesela Nova Godina
• Singhalese - Subha nath thalak Vewa. Subha Aluth Awrudhak Vewa
• Slovak - Vesele Vianoce. A stastlivy Novy Rok
• Slovene - Vesele Bozicne. Screcno Novo Leto
• Spanish - Feliz Navidad
• Swedish - God Jul and (Och) Ett Gott Nytt
• Tagalog - Maligayamg Pasko. Masaganang Bagong Taon
• Tamil - Nathar Puthu Varuda Valthukkal
• Thai - Sawadee Pee Mai
• Turkish - Noeliniz Ve Yeni Yiliniz Kutlu Olsun 
• Ukrainian - Srozhdestvom Kristovym
• Urdu - Naya Saal Mubarak Ho
• Vietnamese - Chung Mung Giang Sinh
• Welsh - Nadolig Llawen
• Yugoslavian - Cestitamo Bozic Papua

Have a Happy & Healthy Christmas Season!

What Are You Thankful For...?

By: Author Unknown

Heavenly Father, Help us remember that the jerk who cut us off in traffic last night is a single mother who worked nine hours that day and is rushing home to cook dinner, help with homework, do the laundry and spend a few precious moments with her children.

Help us to remember that the pierced, tattooed, disinterested young man who can't make change correctly is a worried 19-year-old college student, balancing his apprehension over final exams with his fear of not getting his student loans for next semester.

Remind us, Lord, that the scary looking bum, begging for money in the same spot every day (who really ought to get a job! ) is a slave to addictions that we can only imagine in our worst nightmares.

Help us to remember that the old couple walking annoyingly slow through the store aisles and blocking our shopping progress are savoring this moment, knowing that, based on the biopsy report she got back last week, this will be the last year that they go shopping together.

Heavenly Father, remind us each day that, of all the gifts you give us, the greatest gift is love. It is not enough to share that love with those we hold dear. Open our hearts not to just those who are close to us, but to all humanity. Let us be slow to judge and quick to forgive, show patience, empathy and love.

A Mouse Story...

By: Author Unknown

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package. "What food might this contain?" the mouse wondered. He was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap. Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning. "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."

The mouse turned to the cow and said, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."

So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap, alone. That very night a sound was heard throughout the house, like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey.

The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught. The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital and she returned home with a fever.

Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient.

But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer's wife did not get well; she died. So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.

The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.

So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember, when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.

A Hairbrush...

By: Beth Moore

April 20, 2005, at the Airport in Knoxville, waiting to board the plane, I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing. I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord. I say this because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you. You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise. Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least of which is your ego.

I tried to keep from staring, but he was such a strange sight. Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier. His knees protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones.

The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy, gray hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernails were long, clean but strangely out of place on an old man.

I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting. Then, I remembered that he was dead. So this man in the airport... an impersonator maybe? Was a camera on us somewhere? There I sat; trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me. All the while, my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him.

Let's admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man.

I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall. I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen. And it may be embarrassing.

I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind. "Oh, no, God, please, no." I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, "Don't make me witness to this man. Not right here and now. Please. I'll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!"

There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, "Please don't make me witness to this man. Not now. I'll do it on the plane." Then I heard it... "I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush his hair."

The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts spun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair? No-brainier. I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, "God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I'm on this Lord. I'm your girl! You've never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your life. What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am going to witness to this man." Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind. "That is not what I said, Beth. I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his hair."

I looked up at God and quipped, "I don't have a hairbrush. It's in my suitcase on the plane. How am I supposed to brush his hair without a hairbrush?" God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: "I will thoroughly furnish you unto all good works." (2 Timothy 3:17)

I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself. Even as I retell this story, my pulse quickens and I feel those same butterflies. I knelt down in front of the man and asked as demurely as possible, "Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?"

He looked back at me and said, "What did you say?"

"May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?"

To which he responded in volume ten, "Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that."

At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, "SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?"

At which point every eye in the place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks. Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, "If you really want to." Are you kidding? Of course I didn't want to. But God didn't seem interested in my personal preference right about then. He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But I have one little problem. I don't have a hairbrush." "I have one in my bag, " he responded.

I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carryon, hardly believing what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair. It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many things well, but must admit I've had notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering two little girls. Like I'd done with either Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull.

A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's hair. Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was no one alive for those moments except that old man and me. I brushed and I brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair. I know this sounds so strange, but I've never felt that kind of love for another soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart, I - for that few minutes - felt a portion of the very love of God. That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a short while.

The emotions were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be God's. His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's.

I slipped the brush back in the bag and went around the chair to face him. I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees and said, "Sir, do you know my Jesus?"

He said, "Yes, I do." Well, that figures, I thought.

He explained, "I've known Him since I married my bride. She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the Savior." He said, "You see, the problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months. I've had open-heart surgery, and she's been too ill to come see me. I was sitting here thinking to myself, what a mess I must be for my bride."

Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we're completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known. It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it. Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane. I was deeply ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft.

I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks. She said, "That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did you do that? What made you do that?"

I said, "Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!"

And we got to share.

I learned something about God that day. He knows if you're exhausted, you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on but you feel too responsible to budge. He knows if you're hurting or feeling rejected. He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees you as an individual. Tell Him your need!

I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way. . . all because I didn't want people to think I was strange. God didn't send me to that old man. He sent that old man to me.

John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We Have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth."

Life shouldn't be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather, to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly shouting, "Wow! What a ride! Thank You, Lord!"

Today!

By: Author Unknown

There are two days in every week about which we should not worry, two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension.

One of these days is Yesterday with its mistakes and cares, its faults and blunders, its aches and pains. Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control.

All the money in the world cannot bring back Yesterday. We cannot undo a single act we performed; we cannot erase a single word we said. Yesterday is gone.

The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow with its possible adversities, its burdens, its large promise and its anticipated performance. Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control. 

Tomorrow's sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds… but it will rise! Until it does, we have no stake in Tomorrow, for it is yet unborn. 

This leaves only one day… Today. Any man can fight the battles of just one day. It is only when you and I add the burdens of those two awful eternities… Yesterday and Tomorrow that we break down.

It is not the experience of Today that drives men mad… it is remorse or bitterness for something which happened Yesterday and the dread of what Tomorrow may bring.

Yesterday is history, we can not change it. Tomorrow is a maybe. Today is the only day we have any control over.

Therefore, by concentrating on Today, making it the best that you can in your relationships, deeds, thoughts, spoken word and most importantly… prayer, a man can make his Tomorrow's Yesterday better!