Saturday, July 21, 2012

Good Enough

God wants me to be myself
For He created me this way,
And since God made me who I am,
Myself I’m quite content to stay.

In His eyes I’m good enough -
It matters not what others say;
I need not act as if I’m tough
Or copy other children’s ways.

God doesn’t care if I’m not cool -
If I’m not stronger; thinner;
In His hands I am a tool
To reach out to another sinner.

Though I am still young and small
In Jesus Christ I’m strong and tall;
So when people look at me
May it be God’s own Son they see.

Credits:Belinda van Rensburg

Friday, July 20, 2012

Home Security System

Step 1. Go to Goodwill and buy a pair of size 14-16 men’s work boots.

Step 2. Place them on your front porch, along with an old, well-read copy of Guns & Ammunition Magazine.

Step 3. Put four giant dog dishes next to the boots and magazines.

Step 4. Leave a note on your door that reads “Bubba – Bertha, Duke, Slim, & I went for more ammo. Be back in an hour. Don’t mess with the pit bulls. They got the mailman this morning and messed him up bad. I don’t think Killer took part, but it was hard to tell from all the blood. Anyway, I locked all four of ‘em in the house. Better wait outside. Be right back.”

Special Teacher

Her name was Mrs. Thompson. As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. But that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he didn't play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top. At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last.

However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise. Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners...he is a joy to be around. "His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well-liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle. "His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death had been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken.

"Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class".

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.

Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded.

By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets." A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and most favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and most favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer -- the letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.

The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the place at the wedding that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom.

Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together. They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs.Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference." Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back.

She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."

Credits: CIY

Thursday, July 19, 2012

It shows in your face

You don’t have to tell how you live each day,
You don’t have to say if you work or play,
A tried, true barometer serves in the place;
however you live, it will show in your face.

The false, the deceit you bear in your heart
Will not stay inside, where it first got a start.
For sin and blood are a thin veil of lace;
what you wear in your heart you wear in your face.

If your life is unselfish,
if for others you live,
for not what you get,
but for how much you can give;

If you live close to God,
in His infinite grace,
you don’t have to tell it,
it shows in your face.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Points System


You make the bed +1

You make the bed, but forget to add the decorative pillows -1

You throw the bed spread over the rumpled sheets -1

You leave the toilet seat up -5

You replace the toilet paper roll when it’s empty 0

You check out a suspicious noise at night 0

You check out a suspicious noise at night and it’s nothing 0

You check out a suspicious noise at night and it’s something +5

You pummel it with a six iron +10

It turns out to be her father -10


When she wants to talk about a problem, you listen, displaying what looks like a concerned expression 0

When she talks you listen for over 30 minutes +5

You listen for more than 30 minutes without looking at the TV +15

A Night Out

You take her to a movie +2

You take her to a movie she likes +4

You take her to a movie you hate +6

You take her to a movie you like -2

It’s called Death Cop 3 -3

Which features sexy cyborgs -9

You lied and said it was a foreign film about orphans -15

Your Physique

You develop a noticeable potbelly -15

You develop a noticeable potbelly and exercise to get rid of it +10

You develop a noticeable potbelly & resort to loose jeans and baggy Hawaiian shirts -30

You say, "I don’t care because you have one too" -800

The Big Question

She asks, "Do I look fat?" -5 (Sensitive questions always start with a deficit)

You hesitate in responding -10

You reply, "Compared to what?" -35

Monday, July 16, 2012

The Appropriate Attire

One Sunday morning an old cowboy entered a church just before services were to begin.  Although the old man and his clothes were very worn and ragged, in his hand he carried a worn old hat and an equally worn out old Bible.  The church he entered was in a very upscale and exclusive part of the city.  It was the largest and the most beautiful church the old cowboy had ever seen.  It had high cathedral ceilings, ornate statues, beautiful murals and stained glass windows, plush carpet and velvet like cushioned pews.  The building must have cost many millions of dollars to build and maintain.

The men, women and children of the congregation were all dressed in the finest and most expensive suits, dresses, shoes and jewelry the old cowboy had ever witnessed.  As the poorly dressed cowboy took a seat, the others moved away from him.  No one greeted him.  No one welcomed him.  No one offered a handshake.  No one spoke to him.  They were all appalled at his appearance and did not attempt to hide the fact.  There were many glances in his direction as the others frowned and commented among themselves about his shabby attire.  A few chuckles and giggles came from some of the younger members.

The preacher gave a long sermon about hell fire and brimstone and a stern lecture on how much money the church needed to do God's work.  When the offering plate was passed, thousands of dollars came pouring forth.  As soon as the service was over, the congregation hurried out; once again no one spoke or even nodded to the stranger in the ragged clothes and boots.  As the old cowboy was leaving the church, the preacher approached him.  Instead of welcoming him, the preacher asked the cowboy to do him favor.

"Before you come back in here again, have a talk with God and ask Him what He thinks would be appropriate attire for worshipping in this church," the old preacher said.

The cowboy assured the preacher he would do that and left.

The very next Sunday morning the old cowboy showed back up for the services, wearing the same ragged jeans, shirt, boots and hat.  Once again the congregation was appalled at his appearance.  He was completely shunned and ignored again.  The preacher noticed the man still wearing his ragged clothes, and boots, and instead of beginning his sermon, stepped down from the pulpit and walked over to where the man sat alone.

"I thought I asked you to speak to God before you came back to our church," the preacher said.

"I did," replied the cowboy.

"If you spoke to God, what did He tell you the proper attire should be for worshipping in here?" asked the preacher.

"Well sir," said the cowboy, "God told me that he wouldn't have the slightest idea what was appropriate attire for worshipping in your church, He says He's never even been in here."


Sunday, July 15, 2012

A Prayer

Let me do my work each day; and if the darkened hours of despair overcome me, may I not forget the strength that comforted me in the desolation of other times.

May I still remember the bright hours that found me walking over the silent hills of my childhood, or dreaming on the margin of a quiet river, when a light glowed within me, and I promised my early God to have courage amid the tempests of the changing years.

Spare me from bitterness and from the sharp passions of unguarded moments. May I not forget that poverty and riches are of the spirit.

Though the world knows me not, may my thoughts and actions be such as shall keep me friendly with myself.

Lift up my eyes from the earth, and let me not forget the uses of the stars. Forbid that I should judge others lest I condemn myself.

Let me not follow the clamor of the world, but walk calmly in my path.

Give me a few friends who will love me for what I am; and keep ever-burning before my vagrant steps the kindly light of hope.

And though age and infirmity overtake me, and I come not within sight of the castle of my dreams, teach me still to be thankful for life, and for time’s olden memories that are good and sweet; and may the evening’s twilight find me gentle still.

Credits: Max Ehrmann

PS: Today we have some guests from NY and hence the delay in today's posting.