Just sharing.

The Skinny Lumberjack
===================

A large, well established, Canadian lumber camp advertised that
they were looking for a good Lumberjack. The very next day, a
skinny little man showed up at the camp with his axe, and
knocked on the head lumberjacks' door.

The head lumberjack took one look at the little man and told him
to leave. "Just give me a chance to show you what I can do,"
said the skinny man.

"Okay, see that giant redwood over there?" said the lumberjack.
"Take your axe and go cut it down."

The skinny man headed for the tree, and in five minutes he was
back knocking on the lumberjack's door.

"I cut the tree down," said the man. The lumberjack couldn't
believe his eyes and said, "Where did you get the skill to chop
down trees like that?"

"In the Sahara Forest," replied the slim man.

"You mean the Sahara Desert," said the lumberjack.

The little man laughed and answered back,
"Oh sure, that's what they call it now!"

Keep looking up - political correctness and the christian faith

-- By Nick Gholson, columnist for the Times Record News in Wichita Falls, Texas. Published in September of 1999

I don't believe in Santa Claus, but I'm not going to sue somebody for singing a Ho-Ho-Ho song in December. I don't agree with Darwin, but I didn't go out and hire a lawyer when my high school teacher taught his theory of evolution.

Life, liberty or your pursuit of happiness will not be endangered because someone says a 30-second prayer before a football game. So what's the big deal? It's not like somebody is up there reading the entire book of Acts. They're just talking to a God they believe in and asking him to grant safety to the players on the field and the fans going home from the game.

"But it's a Christian prayer," some will argue. Yes, and this is the United States of America, a country founded on Christian principles. According to our very own phone book, Christian churches outnumber all others better than 200-to-1. So, what would you expect-somebody chanting Hare Krishna? If I went to a football game in Jerusalem, I would expect to hear a Jewish prayer. If I went to a soccer game in Baghdad, I would expect to hear a Muslim prayer. If I went to a ping pong match in China, I would expect to hear someone pray to Buddha. And I wouldn't be offended. It wouldn't bother me one bit. When in Rome...

"But what about the atheists?" is another argument. What about them? Nobody is asking them to be baptized. We're not going to pass the collection plate. Just humor us for 30 seconds. If that's asking too much, bring a Walkman or a pair of ear plugs. Go to the bathroom. Visit the concession stand. Call your lawyer. Unfortunately, one or two will make that call. One or two will tell thousands what they can and cannot do. I don't think a short prayer at a football game is going to shake the world's foundations.

Christians are just sick and tired of turning the other cheek while our courts strip us of all our rights. Our parents and grandparents taught us to pray before eating, to pray before we go to sleep. Our Bible tells us to pray without ceasing. Now, a handful of people and their lawyers are telling us to cease praying. God, help us.

And, if that last sentence offends you, well... just sue me.

The silent majority has been silent too long. It's time we let that one or two who scream loud enough to be heard, that the vast majority don't care what they want. It is time the majority rules!

It's time we tell them, you don't have to pray. You don't have to say the pledge of allegiance, you don't have to believe in God or attend services that honor Him. That is your right, and we will honor your right… but, by golly, you are no longer going to take our rights away. We are fighting back... and we WILL WIN!

God bless us one and all, especially those who denounce Him... God bless America, despite all her faults, she is still the greatest nation of all... AND God bless our service men and women who are fighting to protect our right to pray and worship God!

May this be the year the silent majority is heard and we put God back as the foundation of our families and institutions.

Keep looking up... "In God WE Trust."

Sweaty Genius
============
Genius is one per cent inspiration and ninety-nine per cent perspiration.

~Thomas A. Edison~

Too often we forget this simple truth and think that it is all
what we are gifted with. It is usually not so much what we are
gifted with, but what we do with the gifts that we do have.

People With Good Sense
====================
We hardly find any persons of good sense
save those who agree with us.
~Francois de La Rochefoucauld (1613-1680)~



Ain't that the truth!

[video=youtube_share;rhmcmpX4Zn4]http://youtu.be/rhmcmpX4Zn4[/video]

Two Evil Brothers
===============

There were two evil brothers. They were rich and used their
money to keep their ways from the public eye. They even
attended the same church and looked to be perfect Christians.

Then, their pastor retired and a new one was hired. Not only
could he see right through the brothers' deception, but he also
spoke well and true, and the church started to swell in numbers.

A fundraising campaign was started to build a new assembly.

All of a sudden, one of the brothers died. The remaining
brother sought out the new pastor the day before the funeral and
handed him a check for the amount needed to finish paying for
the new building.

"I have only one condition," he said. "At his funeral, you must
say my brother was a saint."

The pastor gave his word and deposited the check.

The next day at the funeral, the pastor did not hold back.

"He was an evil man," he said. "He cheated on his wife and
abused his family." After going on in this vein for a small
time, he concluded with,

"But, compared to his brother, he was a saint."

Lilies of the field - inspiring graduation speech

By Anna Quindlen

I'm a novelist. My work is human nature. Real life is all I know. Don't ever confuse the two, your life and your work.

You will walk out of here this afternoon with only one thing that no one else has. There will be hundreds of people out there with your same degree; there will be thousands of people doing what you want to do for a living. But you will be the only person alive who has sole custody of your life.

Your particular life. Your entire life. Not just your life at a desk, or your life on a bus, or in a car, or at the computer. Not just the life of your mind, but the life of your heart. Not just your bank account but your soul.

People don't talk about the soul very much anymore. It's so much easier to write a resume than to craft a spirit. But a resume is a cold comfort on a winter night, or when you're sad, or broke, or lonely, or when you've gotten back the test results and they're not so good.

Here is my resume: I am a good mother to three children. I have tried never to let my profession stand in the way of being a good parent. I no longer consider myself the center of the universe. I show up. I listen. I try to laugh. I am a good friend to my husband. I have tried to make marriage vows mean what they say.

I am a good friend to my friends, and they to me. Without them, there would be nothing to say to you today, because I would be a cardboard cutout. But I call them on the phone, and I meet them for lunch. I would be rotten, or at best mediocre at my job, if those other things were not true. You cannot be really first rate at your work if your work is all you are.

So here's what I wanted to tell you today: Get a life. A real life, not a manic pursuit of the next promotion, the bigger paycheck, the larger house.

Do you think you'd care so very much about those things if you blew an aneurysm one afternoon, or found a lump in your breast? Get a life in which you notice the smell of salt water pushing itself on a breeze over Seaside Heights, a life in which you stop and watch how a red tailed hawk circles over the water or the way a baby scowls with concentration when she tries to pick up a Cheerio with her thumb and first finger. Get a life in which you are not alone. Find people you love, and who love you. And remember that love is not leisure, it is work. Pick up the phone. Send an e-mail. Write a letter.

Get a life in which you are generous. And realize that life is the best thing ever, and that you have no business taking it for granted. Care so deeply about its goodness that you want to spread it around. Take money you would have spent on beers and give it to charity. Work in a soup kitchen. Be a big brother or sister.

All of you want to do well. But if you do not do good too, then doing well will never be enough.

It is so easy to waste our lives, our days, our hours, our minutes. It is so easy to take for granted the color of our kids' eyes, the way the melody in a symphony rises and falls and disappears and rises again.

It is so easy to exist instead of to live. I learned to live many years ago. I learned to love the journey, not the destination. I learned that it is not a dress rehearsal, and that today is the only guarantee you get.

I learned to look at all the good in the world and try to give some of it back because I believed in it, completely and utterly. And I tried to do that, in part, by telling others what I had learned. By telling them this:

Consider the lilies of the field. Look at the fuzz on a baby's ear. Read in the backyard with the sun on your face. Learn to be happy. And think of life as a terminal illness, because if you do, you will live it with joy and passion as it ought to be lived.

The Battle
==============
The battle between good and evil will be won in the only place
that it has ever been waged

...from within.

Love of Jesus

-- Author Unknown

Every Sunday afternoon, after the morning service at their church, the
Pastor and his 11-year-old son would go out into their town and hand out
Gospel tracts. This particular Sunday afternoon, as it came time for the
Pastor and his son to go to the streets with their tracts, it was very
cold outside as well as pouring down rain. The boy bundled up in his
warmest and driest clothes and said "Okay Dad, I'm ready."

His Pastor Dad asked, "Ready for what?

"Dad, it's time we gather our tracts together and go out."

Dad responds, "Son, it's very cold outside and it's pouring down rain."

The boy gives his Dad a surprised look, asking, "But Dad, aren't people
still going to Hell, even though it's raining?"

Dad answers, "Son, I am not going out in this weather."

Despondently the boy asks, "Dad, can I go -- Please?"

His father hesitated for a moment then said, "Son, you can go. Here's
the tracts; be careful son."

"Thanks, Dad!" And with that he was off and out into the rain. This
11-year-old boy walked the streets of the town going door-to-door and
handing everybody he met in the street a Gospel tract. After 2-hours of
walking in the rain he was soaking bone-chilled wet and down to his very
last tract. He stopped on a corner and looked for someone to hand a
tract to but the streets were totally deserted.

Then he turned toward the first home he saw and started up the sidewalk
to the front door and rang the door bell. He rang the bell -- but nobody
answered. He rang it again and again bit still no one answered. He
waited but still no answer. Finally this 11-year-old trooper turned to
leave but something stopped him. Again, he turned to the door and rang
the bell and knocked loudly on the door with his fist. He waited,
something holding him there on the front porch. He rang again, and this
time the door slowly opened. Standing in the doorway was a very sad
looking elderly lady.

She softly asked, "What can I do for you, son?"

With radiant eyes and a smile that lit up her world, this little boy
said, "Ma'am, I'm sorry if I disturbed you, but I just want to tell you
that JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU! I came to give you my very last Gospel
tract which will tell you all about Jesus and His great love." With that
he handed her his last tract, and turned to leave.

She called to him as he departed, "Thank you, son! And God bless you!"

Well, the following Sunday morning in church, Pastor Dad was in the
pulpit and as the service began he asked, "Does anybody have a testimony
or want to say anything?"

Slowly, in the back row of the church, an elderly lady stood to her
feet. As she began to speak, a look of glorious radiance came from her
face. "None of you in this church know me. I've never been here before.
You see, before last Sunday I was not a Christian. My husband has passed
on, some time ago, leaving me totally alone in this world. Last Sunday,
being a particularly cold and rainy day, it was even more so in my heart
as I came to the end of the line where I no longer had any hope or will
to live.

"So I took a rope and a chair and ascended the stairway into the attic
of my home. I fastened the rope securely to a rafter in the roof then
stood on the chair and fastened the other end of the rope around my
neck. "Standing on that chair, so lonely and brokenhearted, I was about
to leap off when suddenly the loud ringing of my doorbell downstairs
startled me. I thought, 'I'll wait a minute, and whoever it is will go
away.' "I waited and waited -- but the ringing doorbell seemed to get
louder and more insistent and then the person ringing also started
knocking loudly. I thought to myself again, 'Who on earth could this
be?! Nobody ever rings my bell or comes to see me!' "I loosened the rope
from my neck and started for the front door, all the while the bell rang
louder and louder. When I opened the door and looked I could hardly
believe my eyes! "There on my front porch was the most radiant and
angelic little boy I had ever seen in my life! His smile! Oh, I could
never describe it to you! And the words that came from his mouth caused
my heart, that had long been dead, to leap to life as he exclaimed with
cherub-like voice, 'Ma'am, I just came to tell you that JESUS REALLY
DOES LOVE YOU.' "Then he gave me this Gospel tract that I now hold in my
hand. As the little angel disappeared back out, into the cold and rain,
I closed my door and read slowly every word of this Gospel tract. Then I
went up to my attic to get my rope and chair. I wouldn't be needing them
any more.

"You see, I am now a happy child of the KING, and since the address of
your church was on the back of this Gospel tract I have come here to
personally say, 'Thank you to God's little angel who came just in the
nick of time, and by so doing, spared my soul from an eternity in Hell.'"

There were now no dry eyes in the church. As shouts of praise and honor
to the KING resounded off the very rafters of the building, Pastor Dad
descended from the pulpit to the front pew where the little angel was
seated. He took him in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

Probably no church has had a more glorious moment and probably this
Universe has never seen a Papa that was more filled with love and honor
for his son, except for one: This Father, God, also allowed His Son,
Jesus, to go out into a cold and dark world. He received His Son back
with joy unspeakable, and as all of Heaven shouted praises and honor to
the King, the Father sat His beloved Son on a throne far above all
principality and power and every name that is named. There may be
someone, reading this, who is also going through a dark, cold and lonely
time in your soul. You may be a Christian, for we are not without
problems, or you may not yet know the King. Whatever the case, and
whatever the problem or situation you find yourself in, and no matter
how dark it may seem, I want you to know that I just came to tell you,
"JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU!"

------------

[video=youtube_share;GaUzSa3eYCA]http://youtu.be/GaUzSa3eYCA[/video]

Dead End?
=========

The car was rammed tight into a V-shaped concrete median.

I passed by the car for several days. The front end was crushed
against concrete and the car appeared to be wedged in so tight
that a wrecker would be challenged extricating it from the wall.

The car stared back at me as if trying to tell me something.

"Why didn't the owner come and move it?" I thought.

Then it hit me.

So many lives are like this car. It told a story.

I turned around, parked my car, and got out to take pictures.
I knew that you needed to see this car and its predicament.

The median had bales of straw guarding the entrance; obviously
the construction crew was to use the straw to cover the dirt for
the grass to grow.

The middle was m&d, yet this car had traveled well over a
hundred feet to get wedged in, stranded, damaged, and unable to
back out. People gawked and wondered why.


Are you traveling down such a road now?

Something or someone warned you at the beginning not to go down
this road. You broke past the warnings and went on anyway.

The dirt and m&d didn't bother you; you were still rolling,
traveling on your own road, feeling fine, maybe even excited.

Sometimes when we crash through the warnings we don't realize it
is a dead end. We can't see there is disaster, not deliverance
waiting at the end.

If you are traveling on the wrong road in life, there is still
time to back up and turn around, before you get so stuck,
before you can't move.

Look at the picture and make sure you aren't on a
dead end road. A picture is worth a thousand words.

Jury Duty
=================
Last week I served on jury duty.

When I received the notice in the mail, I admit like most people
I sighed and said, "I don't have time for this; I have too much
to do."

I also thought about the mere $25 I would get paid for the whole
day. I said, "Why don't they pay me what I make on my job for a
day's work?" But then, the thought came to me, "What if I were
the one with the case and needed jurors to attend my trial?"
From that moment on, I was honored to serve on jury duty.
Besides, if everyone were paid what they made on their jobs,
taxes would go up and we would pay it one way or another.

As I sat in the juror assembly room, I looked around and noticed
that these jurors made up our society. Even though we were all
different in many ways, we were all connected and the same in
many ways.

A man sitting behind me looked as though he had nothing at all
in common with me. He asked me what I did, and I told him.
I asked him the same, and he said he owned a yoga center. I
told him I had been to one yoga center in the city and offered
him the name. His eyes lit up, "That's the one I own,"
he responded.

He told me it was a small world.

Sometimes it is not the size of the world that we overestimate
as it is the link between us all that we underestimate.

The other observance that became apparent to me while waiting
were the activities people performed while waiting to be selected
for a courtroom. It reflected what they did with their spare
time in life.

Some people were asleep; sleep was important to them.

Some people were working on their laptops; work had to be done.

Some people were reading the newspaper.
They wanted to stay abreast of what was going on in the world.

Some people were reading books.
They understood the power of reading.

Some people were talking to others.
They enjoyed good conversation.

Others were watching television.
They just wanted to be entertained.

Some looked at this time waiting as time wasted. Others looked
at it as a blessing to finally be able to slow down for a minute
and take a breather.

Jury duty was representative of life.
The same time, the same job, the same place, the same pay,
and the same responsibility represented different things to
different people.

Just like life, the jury duty selection process will seem like
they are picking on you at times. I have been here four times
in the past five years, yet my mother is over twice my age and
has never been summoned.

The next time you are summoned for jury duty, imagine it was
your case and be thankful for the freedom realized in the
judicial system. While waiting to be chosen to perform your
duty, take notice of how you spend your time.

Hearing
===========

"Anyone with needs to be prayed over, come forward, to the front
at the altar," the Preacher says.

Leroy gets in line, and when it's his turn, the preacher asks:
"Leroy, what do you want me to pray about for you."

Leroy replies: "Preacher, I need you to pray for my hearing."
The preacher puts one finger in Leroy's ear, and he places the
other hand on top of Leroy's head and prays and prays and prays,
he prays a blue streak for Leroy.

After a few minutes, the Preacher removes his hands, stands back
and asks, "Leroy, how is your hearing now?"

Leroy says,
"I don't know, Reverend, it ain't til next Wednesday!"

[video=youtube_share;ElVC6rfX3Z8]http://youtu.be/ElVC6rfX3Z8[/video]

Making pancakes


Six-year-old Brandon decided one Saturday morning to fix his parents pancakes He found a big bowl and spoon, pulled a chair to the counter, opened the cupboard and pulled out the heavy flour canister, spilling it on the floor.

He scooped some of the flour into the bowl with his hands, mixed in most of a cup of milk and added some sugar, leaving a floury trail on the floor, which by now had a few tracks left by his kitten.

Brandon was covered with flour and getting frustrated. He wanted this to be something very good for Mom and Dad, but it was getting very bad. He didn't know what to do next, whether to put it all into the oven or on the stove and he didn't know how the stove worked! Suddenly he saw his kitten licking from the bowl of mix and reached to push her away, knocking the egg carton to the floor. Frantically he tried to clean up this monumental mess but slipped on the eggs, getting his pajamas white and sticky.

And just then, he saw Dad standing at the door. Big crocodile tears welled up in Brandon's eyes. All he'd wanted to do was something good, but he'd made a terrible mess. He was sure a scolding was coming, maybe even a spanking. But, his father just watched him.

Then, walking through the mess, he picked up his crying son, hugged him and loved him, getting his own pajamas white and sticky in the process!

That's how God deals with us. We try to do something good in life, but it turns into a mess. Our marriage gets all sticky or we insult a friend, or we can't stand our job, or our health goes sour.

Sometimes we just stand there in tears because we can't think of anything else to do. That's when God picks us up and loves us and forgives us, even though some of our mess gets all over Him.

But just because we might mess up, we can't stop trying to "make pancakes" for God or for others. Sooner or later we'll get it right, and then they'll be glad we tried.

I was thinking, and I wondered if I had any wounds needing to be healed, friendships that need rekindling or three words needing to be said... sometimes, "I love you" can heal and bless!

Suppose one morning you were called to God... do all of your friends know you care about them? Remind your special friends and relatives that you love them dearly, while you can, even if you don't think they love back. You would be amazed at what those three little words, a smile, and a reminder like this can do.

Pass some of this love on to others... send this to everyone you love... and never stop "making pancakes."

Making pancakes

[video=youtube_share;L2qt2d-k2_o]http://youtu.be/L2qt2d-k2_o[/video]

[video=youtube_share;MPmGcridHQ8]http://youtu.be/MPmGcridHQ8[/video]

The Best Ruler
============

It is the person who values power the least
who makes the best ruler.

[video=youtube_share;kHnHxjlVa_M]http://youtu.be/kHnHxjlVa_M[/video]

Good friday: what's 'good' about it?

By Pastor John W. Watts



Today is the day that most of Christianity celebrates or remembers in some way as "Good Friday." It is the day we remember as the day when Jesus was nailed to that old rugged cross about which we sing -- there to bleed and die for "the sins of the world." When we read the Bible's account of the crucifixion and the brutal events leading up to it; When we see a film such as Mel Gibson's "The Passion of Christ," we must pause to ask ourselves, "What's so GOOD about such a day as that?"

The answer is that it this day is not good because of what was done TO Jesus, but we see this day as good because of what He willingly, deliberately and lovingly ALLOWED to be done -- what He gave Himself to as the "Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world."

The depravity of mankind, the nature of man to sin, is at both the most unpopular of the Christian doctrines and also the most empirically verifiable. We have within us a basic sense of our desperate condition. We are aware, or are often reminded, that we are not quite what we were intended to be. Something went wrong, something we want to see made right, but somehow find ourselves incapable of restoring.

Ralph Wood, professor of theology and literature at Baylor University, once asked a group of seminary students to compare two scenes. First is an astute, post graduate college student who insists that sin and the fall of man are myths invented by superstitious people. Second is a young pagan in a remote jungle somewhere whom you find in a clearing sacrificing a chicken on a makeshift altar. "Which man is closer to understanding the truth about his own true nature?" he asked. The students debated and discussed the issue for a time but ultimately agreed that the pagan boy, however primitively, understood something the other did not. There is a need in our lives for atonement. There is a need for sacrifice.

For generations it is recorded in the Old Testament how the Israelites labored to follow laws that were meant to atone for their sin and restore them to a right standing in the presence of God. "And you shall provide a lamb a year old without blemish for a burnt offering to the LORD daily; morning by morning you shall provide it" (Ezekiel 46:13). The language of sacrifice and offering was found throughout Near Eastern culture. But the blood of Israel's sacrifices was not like the blood shed by those attempting to appease and approach the gods they feared and followed. The prophets sent throughout Israel's history were forever insisting that God wanted more than the empty performance of sacrifice. He desired the offerings to exemplify the heart of a worshiper, one yearning to be in the presence of Him who created us, drawing nearer through the blood of a spotless lamb.

When Scriptures speak of Christ as the Lamb of God, it is easy to see the symbolism. Each time we read of the lamb or the lion in Scripture, it is easy to move through the text with an instantaneous recognition: The lamb is Christ. The lion is Christ. But Oxford scholar John Lennox reminds us that these passages tell us not only who it is, but what it is. It's Christ as the lamb, the spotless lamb who died in my place. The description moves well beyond symbolism. He is the Lamb whose blood atones my depravity, the Lamb who moves me forever into the presence of God. "For God so loved the world the He GAVE His only Son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life." (John 3:16) God provided His own lamb of sacrifice to bring us to Himself. And that Lamb gave Himself for us on Good Friday.

When John describes his vision of heaven in the book of Revelation, the Lamb is found in the center of a singing multitude. "Then I saw a Lamb, looking as if it had been slain, standing in the center of the throne, encircled by the four living creatures and the elders" (Rev. 5:6). Asks Lennox, "But how can a slain lamb stand?" On this Good Friday, it is an image that challenges our hearts and minds. The Lamb who bore my sins, forever bears the scars of my atonement, even as he stands ... alive forevermore, in Heaven.

As the Lamb, Christ has met, fulfilled and satisfied a need we could not. He has become the sacrifice we could not give. He is the Lamb who was slain so that we could bow and sing in the presence of God. There is a hymn that declares the glory of Christ, the only one who is worthy:

Behold the Lamb of God!
Into the sacred flood
Of Thy most precious blood
My soul I cast:
Wash me and make me clean within,
And keep me pure from every sin,
Till this life be past.

Behold the Lamb of God! The Lion of the Tribe of Judah, the Cornerstone, the Shepherd, our Advocate has bowed to death and overcome. The Slain Lamb stands. That's what is GOOD about Good Friday.